Novel & Cerita Russian Prison Tattoos Book

Russo's pov Apart from my phonk playlist, the kind of music I enjoy listening to are the sound of metal scratching against the wall, the sound of a gun when it goes off and most certainly the blood-curdling screams of my victims. I gripped his jaw one last time, staring at him squarely in the face. “The tattoo on your chest is from the Al Aziz Brotherhood. Who sent you? Ah Kash? How is your older brother?” “Fuck you!” He spat his blood on my face.

TESSA I am locked in a prison cell, dark and cold. It's like a special cell with a bed, a washroom, and even a wardrobe. My hands and legs are tied to iron chains but I can move in them. The surroundings are unfamiliar. He stands before me again in a mask, hiding his face. He's tall and well-built, and I can even see the eagle tattoo on his arm. In the last two hours, he has taken much of my blood, healing his cursed wolf. My body is too weak, shivering, but he doesn't care.

She was surely set out to punish me. A few minutes after my mate eft the room, I found my way to the bathroom, staring at myself in the mirror. I knew everything about me was different. A huge dark tattoo had appeared on my chest. It was a tattoo of a male in a cage and a female staring at the figure in the cage. Without being told, I was able to decipher the meaning. My freedom was gone. I was the male figure in the cage, the cage was prison set by the moon goddess, the female was my mate, my salvation.

"You know those guys you were doing shots with?" "No." This was a bar. "That one guy? With the beard? You see the tattoo on his forearm? You know what that means?" "No..." "He's done time. Half of those are prison tats. The forearm one? It means he's-" "I don't want to know." She squeezed her eyes shut. Right. Reality sucked. If she knew... If she had any idea... She'd want to do something about it. And doing things was what had landed her here in the first place, in a shell of a life with no joy.

The tattooed men yelled ‘yes' “He wanted to run when we tried to take him.” They said, making my eyes lift to see what Igor Abramov would do. He let’s out a chuckle and gestured. “Put him in the cell. Show him what happens to those that wants to run from my clutches. Show him what happens when someone decides to run from a fate I’ve assigned them.” Igor Abramov spared me no glance as he walked away, leaving the tattooed men to punish me for wanting to run from the fate Igor Abramov signed for me.

"It's really hard to explain. You'd better check it out for yourself!" They arrived at the prison Doron had been using to lock up enemies who had been causing trouble lately, especially those who had killed and terrorized Deroine. A burly man covered in tattoos and scars sat tied to a chair. His face was hideous, filled with a thickly grown beard. Even though he was tied up, his muscles still stood out like a man who had just finished doing exercise. Doron gave Liam some brief information. After that he let Liam finish his business with the prisoner.

It felt like a brand on my skin. I walked back into the bedroom, my damp hair clinging to my shoulders. Ruan was lying on top of the covers, his chest bare. The tattoos across his skin were a map of a life I couldn't understand—dark, intricate, and violent. He had a book in his hand, but he closed it the moment I entered. —Sit— he ordered, nodding toward the other side of the massive bed. —I'll sleep on the floor— I replied, my voice cracking.

She smiled at him politely while he was staring at her like a creep. "I-I-I want to get a tattoo." she mumbled lowly while Cristina was also with her not leaving her alone for a second. He nodded at her slowly and pushed a thick book of outlets in front of her. "Select one." he stated curly in his Russian accent. Vanessa slowly trailed her gaze to the book and started flipping the pages. There was huge variety of tattoos, flowers, guitar, names, symbols, birth flowers, aesthetic tattoos or what not but Vanessa liked none of them and shook her head in denial at the man.

" I glanced up at him with narrowed eyes. "I know you are probably not gonna want it now but you will eventually." I threw the box at him. "I'm never going to want that, I'm not your sub or some property you can own Lorenzo! I'm not wearing a BDSM collar for you." The memories of how I had been a slave to the Russian Mafia all my my life came rushing to the surface but I quickly put a kid in it. Instinctively, I touched the back of my neck where I had been branded. It was no longer there because I had paid to get the tattoos removed but sometimes I still felt it there, still felt the pain.

The jailer opened her cell door, he has four scars on his face running from the eyebrow to the cheek. From the man's build he seems to be a strong fighter with a large physical appearance and bulging muscles. The tattoo on his shoulder caught her attention. A crescent moon stabbed with a knife. She's definitely inside a rogue territory. She backed away to the corner when he entered, a disgustingly creepy smile plastered on his face.