ACT I
“She loved me for the dangers I had passed, / And I loved her that she did pity them.”
Othello (Act 1, Scene 3)
SCENE I
OTHELLO
Othello Romano-Moor looked appreciatively around the abandoned warehouse that was converted for the late-night meeting between the Falcon and the La Romano Famiglia clans. His men had done a good job making it amenable. The dimly lit room had a single table surrounded by stone-faced men as tension rose between the two factions, both part of Verona Heights' underworld.
As the newly appointed successor and underboss, Othello sat on the right of his adopted father, Alessandro Romano, the don of La Romano Famiglia, at one end of the table. On Alessandro’s left side was his adopted brother and best friend, Iago Romano, the family’s consigliere.
Don Alessandro was a robust man in his early sixties, with dark, wavy hair and slightly graying temples. He recently needed a cane due to a slowly healing injury to his left leg. Behind the three men stood their soldiers, watching their backs, not to mention the ones outside guarding the warehouse.
Across from the Romanos were the Falcons, led by the young and inexperienced Don Julian Falcon, who had just assumedleadership after his father’s untimely death. His trusted advisors, seasoned but wary, stood behind him, their eyes scanning the room for any sign of danger. However, Julian’s father’s death was not the reason for their meeting.
Four weeks ago, Don Francesco Rizzo had been murdered under the combined efforts of the Falcon and the Romano factions, leaving no successors. Now, Alessandro and Julian were both in a hostile takeover, vying for the most lucrative assets of Rizzo’s properties and select clan members.
Since Central Verona was a neutral territory, they wanted the business in the surrounding areas. For years, Don Rizzo had accumulated a lot of prime real estate, taking out anyone who went up against him. He only trusted his consigliere, who’d also died in the shootout. One thing Othello appreciated about Rizzo was that he had a good eye for business and knew how to hide his criminal activities very well.
Othello knew Don Alessandro wanted to consolidate all the businesses in the East Bridge's financial district, Midtown, and River Front, which had a high concentration of tourists, shopping, gambling, and extortion operations, but most importantly, the ports that controlled what came and went from the city. He also wanted the Old Town; the South Shore was prime for real estate value. The don was willing to give up the East Side and West End properties, even though they were ripe and had more potential than Rizzo had been willing to put into them, which was why Falcon felt Alessandro was giving him scraps.
“I don’t see why the fuck we should settle for crumbs,” Julian growled, slamming his fist on the table. “What the fuck? We did most of the heavy lifting. The financial district should be ours.”
“Watch your mouth, youngin,” Iago snapped. “Know who you’re talking to and show the don some respect, so mind your fucking language.”
Othello hid his smirk behind his hand. He knew how much Iago hated it when others spoke to the don disrespectfully.
Alessandro leaned back in his chair, his expression a mask of calm, but Othello could see the anger in the don’s gaze even from where he sat. “You and your men certainly played a part in offing Rizzo and his lieutenants, but let’s not forget who provided the intelligence, most of the resources, and did the cleanup. If it weren’t for us, the cops would be breathing down your necks right now!”
“Should I be fucking grateful?” Julian barked.
“You should be on your fucking knees begging the don not to kill you right here and now,” Iago hissed.
Don Julian went to speak, but Othello interjected in a deep and steady voice: “One of our family mottos is never regretting your choices.”
“Family motto,” Julian scoffed. “I’ve heard you lot have a shitload of them. How the hell do you keep track of them all?”
Othello didn’t respond and continued to speak as if the man hadn’t said anything. “We agreed on the property division before we went into this.” He steepled his fingers, looking Julian in the face. “Trying to change the terms now is not only unfair, it’s dishonorable—something I knew your father wouldn’t have done.”
“Don’t you fucking bring my father into this,” Julian snarled.
Othello felt Falcon’s lieutenants’ heated gazes, adding more tension to the room and conversation. He could have cut it with a knife, but didn’t remove his eyes from Julian. However, Othello was unfazed by intimidating looks. He’d dealt with people like Falcon before. Even with his guards covering his back, Othello knew that Falcon was scared of the three of them.
“If you haven’t noticed, I’m not my father,” he sneered.
“Pity,” Iago said. “He at least knew his place.”
“Look who is talking about his place,” Falcon countered, and the guard behind him sniggered. “Isn’t your place to follow behind Othello’s ass? Everyone knows how worthless you are.”
Iago went to respond, but a commotion halted the words on his tongue. The entire room fell silent as the sound of gunfire echoed through the warehouse walls. The room descended into chaos as the men from both factions drew their weapons and pointed them at each other.
“What the fuck is going on?” Don Alessandro barked, rising to his feet with the aid of his cane. “Are you trying to stab us in the back, Falcon?”
Just then, the doors burst open, and a La Romano Famiglia guard staggered in with a gunshot wound to his side. “Ambush!” he managed to gasp before collapsing.
Othello sprang into action just as he saw the faction leaders exchanging quick, suspicious glances at each other, conveying the same thought.
