The Enforcer (Untamed Hearts Book 3) (64 page)

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Authors: Kele Moon

Tags: #Contemporary, #Multicultural, #Suspense

BOOK: The Enforcer (Untamed Hearts Book 3)
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Comare
—A mistresses to a mafioso. This is not wife material, this is a girlfriend, most of the time an on the side girlfriend since getting married is a sort of a requirement for a Mafioso. Though a few slip by into their mid-twenties like Nova, in which case a girl he was seeing regularly would likely be considered a comare unless she was a good girl he was courting as a future wife. Enforcers also have comares, since they don’t get married. Anyone dating an enforcer would automatically be considered a comare.

Commission
—A while back, long before I was even a sexy thought, the crime families instituted a commission to make the decisions that might have once been reserved for a capo dei capi (see above), because the battle for that title left a lot of dead wiseguys in its wake. The commission has members from all the powerful families who help make the decisions that affect the organization as a whole. Which seems odd, but think of it like this. The NFL is an organization that has rules and a commissioner to make sure they’re followed, but the NFL also has all these different teams who do their own thing and have their own bosses. These teams really don’t like one another. Some of them even hate one another, but they all follow the rules laid down by their organization. That sort of describes how the mafia works, if you forget for a moment that one commission member might be inclined to ice another for fucking with their agenda. If something major goes down, the commission can punish individual members as well as entire Borgatas.

Consigliere
—This is sort of a cool job in the administration. I think Nova enjoyed this job when he had it. The power play for the consigliere should ideally be removed because he’s an advisor—someone expected to see all sides fairly. Nova should’ve never had this job for bloodlines alone, but he found a loophole with the bastardo thing, and I guess that was enough for the old man. In other families, the consiglieres sometimes aren’t even made men, and they are often completely removed from criminal activity. They’ve come into the positions as trusted associates of the don, who are fair-minded enough to give him honest advice that’ll serve the whole, but the job is more than that. If the don is the mind of the Borgata, and the underboss is the face of the Borgata, the consigliere is the voice of the Borgata. And he’s the voice not just of the don, but of all the members of the Borgata. The consigliere is our go-between, someone we can talk to and bring our issues to in hopes of being heard by the don. (And yes, Nova was a great consigliere. We all hate that he’s now the moving target instead.)

Cosa Nostra
—Italian for our thing. Okay, again with the complicated. I’m throwing out the word mafia left and right in this dictionary to help you understand, but wiseguys, we don’t call ourselves the mafia. We don’t name ourselves. The media did that shit ages ago when the Italian crime families started organizing in America. They just stole the word from the Sicilian mafia in Italy. (Who also, incidentally, do not name themselves.) It’s a secret fucking organization. We don’t blab that we’re in the mafia. We don’t even really use Cosa Nostra anymore, ’cause fucking stool pigeons writing books and singing to the feds jacked that up too, but alone, when we’re among those we trust, and we have to talk business, we discuss “our thing.” That’s it. (Note, media sometimes calls it La Cosa Nostra, which translates to the our thing and sounds stupid as fuck to anyone who speaks Italian.)

Don
—The godfather. The head of a Borgata. The boss. Don was originally a title in Italy that was reserved for royalty, esteemed nobles, higher-ups in the church, etc. It’s a title of respect. It should be said with respect, and the position should be respected. He is the king of our family. We treat him as such, but it’s also a good idea for the don to remember he needs to be worthy of respect, because Cosa Nostra has a massive case of ADHD when it comes to those in power. We can move on to the next don pretty fucking fast.

Enforcer
—Mafia justice, all wrapped up in one sexy package. Enforcers in a Borgata are often free agents who operate outside the chain of command and answer directly to the administration. They’re rentable to any capo who needs them, or to put it not so nicely, a whore with a gun. There aren’t many of us, because if we’re good at it, the Borgata doesn’t need more than one or two enforcers. A capo can usually utilize his own muscle to get a job done, but if he’s got a difficult situation, if it’s something he can’t handle on his own, and he has to come, hat in hand, to the administration, they’ll send an enforcer to handle the problem. Now if the problem is the capo who can’t handle his shit on his own, well, that’s up to the administration. Enforcers generally only socialize with other enforcers or potential enforcers. We don’t make too many friends in the ranks, more to protect ourselves than anything. An enforcer doesn’t argue the hit handed down from the administration. He does it, regardless of his personal feelings. Not sure how much mob history you know, but most mob hits are on wiseguys who fucked up. You’ll see mention of rules time and again throughout this dictionary. The punishment for breaking these rules is almost always death. Unfortunately, this means that the administration has to off wiseguys who used to be their friends, are oftentimes their blood, and it’s very upsetting to them. So it’s not too much of a hardship on their delicate sensibilities, they have enforcers to take care of it for them. Other wiseguys do not like enforcers. They’re nice as fuck to us, but they don’t like us. We are the grim reapers of the Borgata, and no one is safe from us. If the enforcer is really, really good, he answers to and works for the commission, rentable from the Borgata, but separate from it as well. This makes the enforcer even less likable, as he could one day get handed a hit to take out a don or an underboss as easily as some capo who fucked up.

Ecstasy
—MDMA. We used to call it E. Now in the past few years it’s become affectionately known as Molly. Nova likes weed, but Molly is his first true love, and I’m pretty sure he has days where he still misses her. Ecstasy is the clubber’s drug of choice. It makes music better. It makes dancing better. It makes fucking better. It makes life overall better, until you’re seizing on the floor and dying from a bad batch. Dealers cut ecstasy with nasty shit that’ll do more than ruin your life. It’ll kill you.

Family
—Good or bad, it’s the one you’re stuck with. Needless to say, in mafia circles, this term means more than just blood ties. Though for some of us, it’s one and the same.

Fanook
—A derogatory term for someone who is gay. Used way more than it should be by wiseguys…except in our Borgata. That one, as of late, is not advised unless you want to seriously piss off an enforcer with anger-management issues, but that’s for another book.

Flip
—To turn your back on the Omertà oath and betray the Borgata to the government. Also known as being a rat, a snitch, a stool pigeon, and a good way to earn a visit from an enforcer.

Friend of mine
—An introduction of someone outside the mafia to other mafia members, but by using this term, the member introducing them is putting their reputation on the line by vouching for them. It’s a big deal to get that level of approval. Wiseguys aren’t known for tossing around their loyalty lightly, and let me tell you why. If the person you’re betting on fucks up. If they go to the feds. If they’re idiots and lose the Borgata money or harm the organization in any way, guess who’s getting called up for it. Made men have quite a bit of protection, but if you vouch for a dumbass and they hurt the organization, you can end up in a watery grave real fucking fast.

Friend of ours
—Made men use this as code to recognize one another. An example, if Nova and I walk into a restaurant and Nova runs into a made man he knows, perhaps from another family, he’ll introduce him to me as a friend of ours. The organization is very secretive. There are a lot of rules in place to protect its members, and they’re important. I believe in them as much as any other made man does. This is a very strict rule. As in, you’ll be dead in a fucking heartbeat if you introduce someone as a friend of ours and they aren’t actually made. I cannot emphasize enough how unbreakable this rule is.

Goomah
—Another term for a mafia mistresses. (See comare.)

Guido
—The bane of New York/New Jersey Italian culture. A lot of guidos aren’t even Italian. With wifebeaters five sizes too small and an unhealthy addiction to spray tans and steroids, they’re not helping our image. Do I use hair gel? Yes, I do. My hair looks like shit without it. Sorry. Blame my genetics. I have to do something with it—water, gel, something. I don’t, however, make my hair stand five inches too high and spike it so hard it could be used as a weapon. Seriously. Stop it. You’re hurting yourselves with that shit.

Guidette (Guida)
—Female version of the guido. I don’t mind a guidette, but Nova avoids them like the plague even though he attracts them like a motherfucker. Nova’s the ultimate guidette trophy with his fancy Zu title, but for me things were largely uncomplicated with them. Like the guidos, there’s plenty of non-Italian guidettes, but they’re still cute in a too-much-makeup, loud, speak-their-minds sort of way. Guidettes can stay, but the guidos gotta go.

Guinea
—A very derogatory term for Italian Americans. Any Italian will take it personally, but it’s actually directed toward Sicilians, who tend to be darker. Not to bore you with history, but way back in the day, the Moors from North Africa invaded Sicily and hung out there a long fucking time before they were driven off. It ended up affecting our overall genetics because there wasn’t much to do back then except fuck…especially on an island full of Italiani. Now, over a thousand years later, many Sicilians are still darker than other Italians, and calling us guineas means we’re not white like them. Which, whatever. Why the ever-loving fuck does it matter? We’re a mix of a lot of Mediterranean people, and we’re awesome because of it. This is a very old-fashioned insult. I hadn’t realized it was still so prevalent until I got stuck in Cosa Nostra, because the organization clings to old ideals like their survival depends on it. It’s a mafia thing. The northerners are pissed off our dicks are bigger, so they call us guineas. Doesn’t change the fact that their wives gotta pay to get it from a real man. Yeah, I said it.

Glock
—One of the most popular gun brands in law enforcement. Also extremely popular with criminals. Why? It doesn’t have a typical safety. You can fire quickly and efficiently in an emergency situation. Of course, gangsters like to conceal this weapon in their jeans, and without a safety, well, for obvious reasons, I’m not recommending that. I like Glocks, but I don’t stick them in my jeans. The Glocks I reserve for a holster.

Goodfellas
—Another term for made men. (Note, made men are protected in the underworld. Even if they deserve to get whacked, killing or even punching one of them is bad for your health unless the punishment was approved by the administration.)

Hit
—A contract killing.

Ice
—Kill. (Also street slang for crystal meth, a drug that makes cocaine look like baby aspirin. Meth wrecks you. Quickly. Anyone with a shred of vanity wouldn’t touch ice. You don’t see too many wiseguys on meth. Cocaine we’ll snort like a motherfucker. But ice, not so much. We don’t even deal it, to be honest. We have limits. Ice is one of those limits.)

Made
—Being formally inducted into the mafia through a ceremony. You’re told the history. (Why do you think this dictionary is so fucking long? We have a thing about our history.) You’re told the rules. (Which takes a while, as you can see.) You’re told what happens if you break the rules. (Death, in varying horrific ways, depending on the infraction.) Then you’re a man of honor, a wiseguy, a goodfella, more often than not like your father before you, and one day, if our lady is kind, you’ll have a bunch of mafiosi sons to share the tradition with. (Note, or if you’re my father, you have one daughter, a pissed-off wife who won’t fuck you, and a couple of bastard sons who are good enough for no other reason than one is pretty smart and the other makes a fantastic motivational tool.)

Madonn’
—Short for Madonna, or Madonna mia. The Blessed Mother. It expresses surprise in a slightly blasphemous way, something similar to holy shit. (Note, like others in this section, while technically Italian, it’s become New York slang enough that I moved it down.)

Make your bones
—In order to become a made man, you have to make your bones. What is it, you ask? You have to carry out a contract killing. This cannot be a personal vendetta. It can’t be the asshole who screwed over your friend. This has to be done exclusively for the organization. Meaning you have to kill, in cold blood, someone you don’t know who had the misfortune of making enough bad life choices that the mafia put out a hit on them. I mean, don’t get me wrong; whoever you have to kill to make your bones was probably gonna die anyway, but if the Borgata has someone up for being made, they take the job away from the enforcer and give it to the potential inductee. For a lot of made men, this is a grim part of being made. Not all mafia are killers, but this is insurance for the organization, and it’s currently an unbendable rule. It used to be, back in the day (like the early ’80s), you could become a made man without it. If you were a big earner like Nova, that’d be enough, but after the Donnie Brasco trials, it became an absolute must. Why? ’Cause undercover FBI agents aren’t going to go contract kill someone to get into our organization. They just aren’t. So, yeah, after it’s done, made men love to announce when they did it. “Yo, Tony, shut the fuck up. I made my bones back when Reagan was president.” Honestly, I usually want to punch motherfuckers when they do that shit. I never had to make my bones. I was contract killing for the Borgata long before I got made. Lucky me.

Mattresses
—Going to the mattresses. Hitting the mattresses. It means preparing for mafia war. It is still a literal term too. When a war goes down, mattresses are involved. Soldiers sleeping on them, stuck in safe houses as they wait for orders. The administration and their families are also taken to safe houses, cooped up together, sleeping on the floor, and forsaking any other internal bullshit that is going on in order to protect what matters. All those mattresses in the apartment over the garage, that’s what they were waiting for. The next big war. Which showed up, by the way, but that’s for another book.

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