The Slayer (Untamed Hearts #2) (62 page)

Blow
—Cocaine. (The rich man’s drug. In case you didn’t know, a cocaine habit is expensive as hell. Upside is coke will make you very productive. It’ll also wreck your life if you hold on to the habit for any extended period of time. I don’t recommend blow. Drink coffee instead.)

Borgata
—The family. Used in mafia circles to refer specifically to a crime family—one with an established upper-level administration, soldiers, associates, etc. There are different Borgatas. Some are small; others, like the Moretti crime family, are very large, with capos, soldiers, and associates in most major cities.

Boss
—This word has a million different meanings, but at the end of the day a real boss is probably someone you should respect. In the Cosa Nostra,
boss
is another term for the godfather (can also be referred to as don, father, or uncle in Italian).

Burner phone
—I’m a big fan of the burner phone. It’s essentially a prepaid phone that you keep for a few days or weeks and then toss for the next burner phone. In doing this, it makes you very hard to track. Cosa Nostra believes, with good reason, keeping a cell phone in your pocket is like carrying the government around with you. But we’re also in the modern fucking age, and cell phones are required. Even still, you don’t see me spending hours on my phone like Jules and Romeo are apt to do. The reason people call me hyper is because I’m not spaced-out on my phone 24-7. I’ll text. I’ll call, but I don’t put my life on my phone. Nova’s on his more than I am, but it’s never for business. He uses burner phones for that. We’ll have one phone that’s ours all the time, and we use it for things like Jules texting me to pick up milk for the twins on the way home. According to Romeo and Jules, this is the only phone I have, but I have others hidden for emergencies. Rarely smartphones, though the one I kept in the GL was a smartphone in case I needed it for maps or something. But real burners are usually just used for talking. Cheap, disposable, and untraceable.

Capo bastone
—Underboss. Just like it sounds, the capo bastone is the vice president of the mafia, but in this scenario, the vice president isn’t just sitting around waiting for the old man to kick off. He handles all the shit, big and small, that goes into running a crime family. For big families like the Morettis, more steps need to be taken to protect the don, which means the underboss is the one who takes more risks, makes more decisions, and essentially puts himself out there as a moving target to distract the Feds and other enemies from the don. That’s why Nova’s on the commission. It’s the reason he’s the one who handles the capos. The don is supposed to be invisible, protected at all costs. The underboss, in contrast, is almost like a decoy who got stuck doing all the work. Underboss is a shit fucking job. Bet you didn’t know that’s what Nova was dealing with all this time, but he owns it…like a boss.

Capo dei capi
—Boss of all bosses. Literally translates in Italian to
head of all heads
. This is a very old-school term, one given to the few godfathers who gained so much power they held supreme authority over the entire Italian mafia organization in America, which essentially means they controlled most of the underworld. This is a lot of power for one individual, and it can create a lot of tension, as crime families only like to recognize their own administration as their ruling party. I think another capo dei capi rising to power is a dead ideal, as in, not really possible anymore no matter how much it’s romanticized. Nova likes to say anything is possible, but let’s get real. A play like that would have to be epic, and even if they did succeed, holding it down would take a powerhouse administration.

Caporegime
—Almost always shortened to
capo
. Can also be called a skipper, or lieutenant. A capo is the leader of a crew in the mafia. Crews often run independently, doing their own thing, making money, but on regular intervals they will have to give a taste (a cut) to the administration. A capo will usually have an area they work for the Borgata, or in other instances a specialty within the Borgata. Gambling, theft, guns, drugs, unions, etc. There are also capos who run legitimate businesses. Particularly in our family, over the past many years, shock of shocks, a lot of our money is made legitimately. Of course, the accountants will often use the capos who are running legit crews to funnel dirty money, so don’t get the wrong idea. The Moretti family isn’t going straight by creating all these legit crews. They’re hiding the money from the Feds, but that’s complicated. It has Nova’s name written all over it and makes me faze the fuck out when he talks about it. Anyway, capos who make more money have more power and respect. Some suck; others rock it out like a motherfucker. A good underboss (Nova) will often try to help them be as efficient and profitable as possible. Nova does all right with this. I haven’t met a capo yet who didn’t love him. Considering they’re all rich and their money is pretty and clean and legit looking to the government. Nova is what we like to call an overachiever when it comes to mafia work. He protects his capos.

Candy
—Code word for drugs, particularly cocaine. Like real candy, the rule of thumb is never to take candy from strangers. You never know what they cut it with to save their bottom line. Trust me on this, dealers will cut cocaine (and other drugs) with some very nasty shit to save their bottom line. You’d be lucky to get baking soda. Very lucky. (Note, it’s extremely rare to get pure cocaine, unless you’re the grandson of a don. Then it’s a perk of the job.)

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 each other. Some of them even hate each other, 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. (Note, yes, in case you’re wondering, as of right now, Nova is on the commission for the Moretti family.)

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 there was an opening 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. When I left, Tony took over my job working for the commission. (Note, yeah, I’ll let you sit and think about all that for a while, because Tony has a lot of reasons to be loyal to Nova. He’s been his self-appointed bodyguard ever since Nova nearly went down for killing our father. Nova also serves the commission, so this works for everyone, except maybe the old man.)

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.

Flip
—To turn your back on the Omertá 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. (Note, I honestly don’t remember introducing Chu to Nova with this. It’s another one of those things lost in the crash, but Nova assures me I did. A part of me must have known Chu was worth the gamble.)

Friend of ours
—Made men use this as code to recognize each other. 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 in 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.

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 (no, the Boricua is wrong, we don’t all exclusively pack Berettas; some of us are into whatever will get the job done), 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.)