Vinnie Hacker Tattoo 소설 & 이야기

Slowly, he turns away from me, tugs at his shirt, and lifts it up. There! Pristine and raw, is a new tattoo on his skin. A black crown on his shoulder. My mouth goes dry and suddenly I can hear Layla as if she’s standing here with me: Tattoos. Every man of the Bratva has some. Some signify their past deeds, terrible or great things they’ve done, and their ranks. It doesn’t take a genius to know what the crown means. I'd suspected Yannick planned to kill me, but now I know for sure.

When those people came closer, Lucia saw their appearance clearly, and a strong despair appeared on her frosty face. The five people in the lead were dressed in black, and each of them had a clear six-pointed star tattoo on the right cheek, which was the symbol of the Tattoo Organization. The leader was a tall, thin and gloomy middle-aged man. He had only one right eye, and his left eye was covered by a black eye patch. His name was One-Eyed Jack, and he was the leader of the Tattoo. Jack was just an alias, and no one knew his real name and background. He was currently the tenth prisoner on the Interpol wanted list.

He should better have a useful information for me, or he will be wasting my afternoon. "This better be important, Leonardo," I barked. "It is. He finally talked. Even though it's not much, but he said that the man who gave him information about Isla always wore a hockey mask, and a voice changer. He also mentioned something about a viper tattoo on his back, boldly drawn," Leonardo relayed. That was a lead, but also not one much helpful. How am I supposed to find someone in a hockey mask? And as for the tattoo, there were lots of people in this city that had that tattoo as well.

It feels like cocaine should feel. He doesn't see who drinks, he also doesn't see if anyone noticed their...whatever it was. "Never have I ever gotten a tattoo." Isaac says. Matteo and his brother, as well as Vinnie, Eddie, and Valentina, drink. He remembers the tattoo he saw on Valentina's ankle, as well as the one on her back. Matteo had never asked about them, but he suddenly feels the urge to know what they mean. He's sure they each must have a meaning.

“That was why you were at the tattoo shop today?” He asks, and I roll my eyes and shake my head. “No, well, yes, sort of. I was there for me. Uncle Gianni and Uncle Marco both helped me find out who that tattoo belonged to and where it was tattooed. It is safe to say that place is burning to the ground as we speak with some of the Viper’s members inside.” I laugh as Savage looks at me in shock, but it’s Hatchet that is grinning, nodding, folding his arms over his chest as murmurs ring out through the room. Hatchet knows what my family is capable of.

Between them, in elegant black script, sat the tattoo: CW His striking glassy gray eyes darkened as he stared. “There’s another one,” I said, voice turning low and teasing. “On my hip bone. Want to see that too?” He nodded once. I stood, unzipped the prison trousers, and nudged them down just enough to reveal the smooth skin of my hip. The second tattoo read CROWE in the same beautiful lettering, right above the delicate line of my v-cut. “I can’t see it properly,” Ryker murmured, his voice dropping. “Come closer.”

Mine is a human male’s face hidden in the shadows, half of the face is complete with the crimson light of vengeance in one eye and the other half is the skeletal face of the male with an empty eye socket. Some of my other tattoos are pretty vicious-looking, and some hold what I’d like to think are the fractured parts of my soul. The security monitor mounted on my wall chirps a moment later, warning me that someone is outside my door. Entering my security code, I come face to face with the person on the other end. It’s Hunter Cohen; he’s one of the Confradia techs helping us hunt down Willem Kazik.

I say quietly, as I take Saggio’s leg. “One. Two. Three,” I count, then snap his shoulder back into place. I sit back while Hacker shifts, grunting in pain as he does. “I’m with you guys,” he says, looking at us and gingerly holding his arm against his body. “We have to have a mole.” “Who?” Siren asks, having heard us. “The squads are all here. You can’t tell me it was Lace or Nix,” she says. “Not the squads,” Hacker says.

Ten minutes later, the head of tech entered the study, holding a tablet, his face pale as a sheet. "Don... we recovered the last message the Donna received." He didn't dare look up, simply handing over the tablet with violently shaking hands. I snatched it from him. On the screen was a photo. The background was this very study. Victoria was wearing my black silk shirt, the collar wide open. And beside her was a man's bare chest, meant to look like mine. On it, next to the lion tattoo of the Marino family patriarch, was a new tattoo of the letter "V."

Sonia didn’t seem convinced by my words but decided to let me be. I went back to work and tried to focus, but my mind wasn’t at rest. I kept thinking of him, my parents' killer. I knew I wasn’t mistaken. He was the one. The tattoo was exactly the same. It was well-crafted and spectacular, not just an ordinary scorpion tattoo but has a signature sign. Something written in foreign letters beside the tattoo; such a tattoo couldn’t be found anywhere else. This tattoo was etched into my memory. Every time I blinked, the image of that scorpion tattoo flashed before my eyes. I wasn’t mistaken. It was him.