"Well, if he is, then you can get with him and have kids, and Mrs. Maria could stop worrying that you'll die a lonely man. She doesn't show it when she's here, boss, but she's been really worried since you got shot."
Othello sighed. He really wished he could ease Maria's worry, but simply falling into bed with someone just to procreate wasn't his thing. Did he want children? Of course, he did, but it wasn't a dealbreaker for him. Sure, he'd had flings and even been in a committed relationship once, but things didn't work out. Othello desired too many things from his partner, one being their complete trust and loyalty. He wanted them to understand that he would never walk away from his family, not even for their love. He wanted them to be independent yet submissive to him, mainly in the bedroom. He enjoyed caring for and pampering his lovers, showing them they were the center of his world while needing them to be his safe space.
Truthfully, in the past few days, he had enjoyed watching the little doctor's green eyes burn with fire, and his cheeks turn pink as he got riled up before storming off to gods knew where. He would never admit that Tallen was right, and he had been checking out the doctor a little more each time they saw each other. Little Doctor Ellington was adorable and had some flavors Othello appreciated in a bed partner, from his petite stature to a nice-toned and svelte build. The doctor had beautiful eyes that reminded him of an angel from his dreams. He also had attractive lips, flawless skin, and a dimpled smile. His eyebrows were thick and perfectly arched, and his long lashes rested on his high cheekbones.
“Boss, you're still smiling. What are you thinking about?” Tallen said, breaking into his thoughts.
“About you going to school,” he said, changing the subject. Othello had been trying to convince Tallen to attend college to further his advancement in the family.
“Boss, I’m not school material,” Tallen said, scratching the back of his neck.
Othello shook his head—this kid. “I’m getting out of this place in two days,” he said, dropping the subject for now.
“Really?” Tallen exclaimed. “About damn time. We’ve all missed you, boss.”
Othello smiled. “Same here. I can’t wait to sleep in my own damn bed. Why are you here, anyway?”
“Oh, I’ve got news. We caught one guy who was involved in the ambush.”
“How? When?”
“Honestly, I don’t know how it happened. Yesterday, Consig Iago got a call and rushed out of the morning meeting with the city bosses who were involved and came back five hours later with some dude that was all beat to shit but still breathing.”
That’s why he didn’t come and see me yesterday. “Where is he? The guy?”
“Since he won’t talk, we have him locked up in The Pen. The don figures a little more torture will get him to talk.”
The Pen was a pit for illegal fights and gambling and a whole host of things that would have the cops knocking at his front door if they knew what really went down in the club. ThePen was only open twice a week, and the only way to get in was by invitation and a password that changed every week and never duplicated. The Pen had a jail cell built in the club's basement for hard-to-deal-with clientele. It was nothing like his other two establishments, Mirage and Starlight Haven. Othello had won the deed to Mirage in a poker match with Roderigo, an influential businessman with his hands in pockets they shouldn’t have been in. Othello would admit that he and Roderigo were not and never would be best friends; in fact, he hated the man with every breath he took. But he kept the man at arm’s length even though the businessman was Iago's close friend.
At that thought, he looked at Tallen. “Did anyone check into Roderigo’s activities before and after the ambush?”
The Mirage was a strip club that offered more than just a couple of lap dances. Besides the expensive drinks and the talented strippers, clients were able to rent out high-priced escorts available to fulfill any man's or woman's dreams, whether for a day, night, months, or even a year. Othello conducted most of his illegal activities at The Pen and Mirage, which left Starlight Haven clean but offered many amenities to his clientele. The Starlight Haven kept the cops from looking too deep into the family's affairs. It was in the factory district and about ten or fifteen minutes walk from his apartment. He liked the Starlight Haven, but the Mirage padded his pockets, keeping his Smurfs busy, not just counting and distributing the large bills they took in within just one night but also keeping track of their gambling websites. When Othello took it over, the damn club was oozing money but getting nothing in return. Othello knew the man had an ax to grind with him and wanted his club back, but he didn’t want to think Roderigo would be stupid enough to put Iago and Don Alessandro in danger trying to get to him.
“I think so,” Tallen said. “Honestly, boss, the don looked into every one. I know we investigated if there were any Rizzo leftovers, but we took care of all of them. But we still don’t know who did it. Until that fucker talks, we’re back to square one.”
Othello sighed and leaned against the window, feeling unsettled. He had hoped they would have more information by now. But there wasn’t anything he could do until he left the hospital.
Two days later, Othello was wheeled out of the hospital by Tallen, with Iago by his side. He was finally leaving and couldn’t be happier, but he had a shit ton of instructions about what he could and couldn’t do for the next couple of months. Othello didn’t care as long as he was heading home. He had hoped to see the cute doctor, maybe see him blush with frustration again, but the man was stuck in another surgery. Mentally shrugging, Othello looked at his friend.
“Make sure I never go through that shit again,” he said.
Iago quirked a brow. “What, didn’t like the accommodation?”
“Not the best way to spend my two-week vacation, that’s for sure,” he grumbled, standing from the wheelchair. “Alright, let’s head home. I have things to do.”
“I’m glad you’re alive.” Iago smiled, clapping him on the shoulder.
“Me too, bro.” They shared an understanding and then walked shoulder to shoulder to the car, their bond forever cemented.
ACT II
My noble Moor is true of mind, and made of no such baseness / As jealous creatures are.
Desdemona (Act 3, Scene 4)
SCENE I
OTHELLO
