The man singularly inherited both the Russian and Italian families, which consolidated one of the smaller, lesser powerful groups into one of the major founding families.
His biological father ran the Russians, who despite their attempts, never managed to get a foothold in Boston, while his mother and one of her favorite guards came from the Italians. Some family packs take one of the alpha’s last names while others take the omega’s. Their family pack chose to keep his mother’s last name, which is why there’s no Russian influence. Hell, perhaps he has a Russian middle name.
All I know is that it was quite the tidbit of juicy gossip when his father dropped his last name to take his omega’s.
While it’s common in the rest of the world for packs to mutually decide on their pack last name, other packs have members that keep their surname.
That’s how the mafia tends to run. I’m not sure I’d ever be willing to give up O’Connor, but I also wouldn’t expect my wife to change her name if she preferred to keep her own.
A pack name is required for the legal paperwork, though nothing legally says that all members must change their last name to match it.
“I’m sure you’ve heard. We’re all waiting to see what the Chapmans decide to do,” I say, keeping things as vague as possible. “Is that why you’re calling? Do you have plans to throw Vanessa and Malachy an engagement party?”
I’d hate to have to be the one to tell him, but we already have a party planned for New Year’s Eve. Well, unless we break down and cancel the whole damn thing. I’m sure Vanessa would be quite content if we got tired of the back-and-forth and caved.
“Hardly.” He laughs, the sound grating on my nerves. “Out of everyone, you’re closest with Pierce, no?” Moretti speaks three or four languages, and his voice takes on a more Russian tone. Even that’s not enough to distract me.
Why the fuck is he asking about Wilder? Does he think we’re using our friendship to get preferential treatment in the negotiations? If we were, we certainly wouldn’t have waited so long to fulfill the contract, now would we?
“We grew up together, but I’d hardly call him a friend,” I lie. “Why?”
“Do you happen to know how attached he is to his second?” Moretti asks.
My head tilts, and I pace my office floor.
Again…
Why the fuck is he asking me this?
“Grim isn’t just Wilder’s second. He’s a longtime friend,” I say, wondering if I’m walking us into a trap.
“Hmm,” Moretti says, drawing the word out obnoxiously. “That could be a problem. I was approached for a job, but I’m not sure my original number would cover the trouble it would cause.”
“A job involving Grim?” I ask as my mind races through what that means.
“I can’t disclose the details of a contract, but I’d say he went and pissed someone off real good.” Moretti laughs. “Then again,I’ve seen him in the ring. Anyone who steps up to him is clearly lacking in brain cells.”
Wilder inherited the fight rings from his fathers, and Grim often fills in when fighters back out at the last minute.
Grim killed three unknown assholes two nights ago, and Wilder seemed convinced they had some affiliation somewhere, even if he couldn’t determine who they belonged to at the time.
Now Moretti has been approached to…what?
Take Grim out?
I don’t believe in coincidences, so I’m going to guess the two things are related.
“Still, whether they’re idiots or not, the money spends the same,” he says when I don’t speak.
“You have an understanding of how the Pierce family runs things,” I tell him. “Wilder looks at Grim as family. If you attack Grim, you attack Wilder. He has at least three families that would go to war to back him up…”
“Yeah, you all seem to love to suck up to the supposedly neutral third party.” He laughs. “But we all know the Pierce family has rarely managed to stay truly objective.”
I laugh.
If I don’t, I’m going to say some shit that I can’t take back, but we surely wouldn’t have spent so long hashing this shit out with the Chapmans if Wilder held any type of sway in forcing compliance. I’m pretty sure Wilder is going gray from having to put up with all of us. He complains constantly about wanting to retire.
“When the old-timers pitched it, wasn’t the Pierce family supposed to make our lives easier?” he asks in a condescending tone. “Find crooked cops to buy off, fix messes before they could spill over into the general public realizing organized crime is still alive and well in Boston. Find us quality lawyers to cover our asses. That type of thing?”
