Scene III
SCENE III
OTHELLO
O thello bit his bottom lip, grabbing Des's hips and stopping his movement. He didn't know how long he was going to last. The entire night, Des had been teasing. Othello had to admit he'd made the mistake of picking out the perfect outfit that showed off Des's figure. Flipping them over, he sat on top of Des, grasping his wrists and placing them over his head.
"Don't move them," he ordered, liking the glint he saw in Des's eyes. Othello unbuckled his belt and slowly pulled it from his loops, watching Des's chest rise and fall, and his pretty blue eyes darken to a color Othello hadn't seen before. Once the leather was pulled through the last loop, he lightly dragged it against Des's soft skin. Des gasped and closed his eyes.
"Look at me, Tesoro," Othello ordered. Des opened his eyes and looked directly at him. "Do you want me to spank you with this, baby?" Des nodded, and Othello chuckled. "Do you trust me so much?"
"I do," Des answered, not stuttering or turning his gaze away.
Othello didn't know what to say. Not since his last relationship had he played in the BDSM area. Despite what he'd claimed the day he woke up in the hospital, he knew Des was his type. Getting off Des, he unbuttoned his pants and slid them off, throwing them to the floor. Othello returned to the bed and did the same to Des, removing his pants and underwear.
"Roll over," he told Des.
He smiled when his Tesoro eagerly did what he told, no questions asked. Des's trust in him was so powerful it left him breathless. Othello folded the belt and trailed it down the center of Des's back, pulling a sweet gasp from him. He stopped at Des's lower back and lightly tapped the belt on his left cheek, watching his reaction.
Des wiggled his ass, and Othello did it again, this time adding a little more force, enough to sting but not leave a mark, pulling a hiss from his lover. Othello wouldn’t go too far tonight; he simply wanted to test the waters. It was Des's first time, and he promised he would take it slow.
Othello leaned down and kissed the spot where he hit, then moved up his body, nipping at his shoulder. He kissed the back of his ear before sucking gently on his lobe.
"One day, I'm going to tie you to this bed and spank you with this very belt," Othello whispered in his ear.
"Why not tonight?" Des asked in a raspy voice.
"You're so eager to feel pain." Othello chuckled, trailing his lips to Des's cheek and placing a soft kiss.
"Only when you're the one making me hurt," Des responded, turning his head and connecting their mouths.
Othello moaned, taking every bit of what Des was willing to give. He lay on top of Des, and he sandwiched his cock between Des's legs rubbing his weeping erection on Tesoro's balls. Des groaned in his mouth and tightened his legs, slowly circling his waist.
Their bodies moved together, and their kiss became sloppy. Othello grabbed Des's hand and brought them up, silently instructing Des to hold on to the headboard. He sighed in satisfaction when wrapping his hand around the lube and condom packets. Their cocks ground together, rubbing against the soft sheet, sending waves of sensation throughout his body, and their breathing became ragged. Othello knew the signs and could tell Des was not far from coming, which caused him to stop and sit back on his knees.
Des growled in frustration, and Othello would have laughed if he wasn't in the same situation. Othello rubbed soothing circles on his back.
"Calm down, Tesoro," he said in a soft voice.
"Please don't tease me anymore," Des moaned. "I can't take it."
Othello reached for a pillow and tapped Des's hips. "Lift up." Des did as asked, and Othello fit the pillow underneath him and widened Des's legs, giving Othello a nice view of his puckered hole and the pretty iris mark on his leg. Leaning down, Othello spread Des's legs and buried his face in his butt cheeks, dragging his tongue along his hole. They both moaned at the touch and taste.
"Othello, fuck," Des groaned his name.
Othello swirled the tip of his tongue around Des's hole but didn't go any further. He loved eating ass, and as much as he wanted to fuck his lover with his tongue until he came, Othello was dying to bury himself into Des, feeling him tighten around him.
Leaning back, Othello tore the lube packet open with his teeth and let the liquid dribble over Des's butt crack, and watched it move down, soaking his hole. Othello placed a soft hand on Des's lower back as he circled a finger around his moist hole before pushing it in.
"Oh," Des moaned, pressing his face into the pillow, feeling the sting from the finger moving in and out of his hole.
He had been prepared for this and knew that it would hurt. He was grateful that Othello was gentle with him, but Des wanted more.
"Othello, don't stop," he rasped. Othello grunted, and another finger joined the first one. He didn't stop this time, but he pumped them in and out of him. Des closed his eyes, enjoying the sensation of grinding on Othello's fingers and his cock on the pillow.
Distantly, he could hear Othello ripping something open and could only guess that it was the condom and was thankful that one of them had more sense to protect themselves. Des was too caught up in the pleasure to think clearly. The heat they’d created earlier hadn't disappeared. It was so heightened, that Des was close to coming.
Othello leaned over him and captured his mouth. His body relaxed completely at Othello's touch and kiss, and he felt like he was being taken to a new world. His body moved with Othello's fingers, as if the man were playing him like an instrument.
Des wasn't sure how many fingers were added since Othello kept him distracted, but he whimpered against Othello's lips when he felt the soft, blunt head pushing into his tight hole, stretching him, causing his erection to soften and his body to stiffen.
"Hurts," he softly cried.
"I know, Tesoro," Othello said. "Breathe," he soothed, giving him a peck on his lips and the tears that pooled in the corners of his eyes. "I can stop."
"No, don't," Des said quickly. "Just give me a minute." Othello didn't stop touching him, and Des could feel his body relax. After a few minutes, he was ready and told his lover so. "Okay."
Othello didn't move immediately but looked into Des's face as if seeking assurance. Once he got what he wanted, he slowly pushed his cock in and out, sending tingles all through Des's body, pulling soft moans from him as his cock started coming to life.
"Othello, oh fuck, so good," he moaned, squeezing the headboard, but he wanted to hold onto his lover.
As if knowing what he wanted, Othello pulled out of Des, gently flipped him over on the pillow and grasped his condom-covered cock, and slowly pushed back into Des, not giving him a moment to breathe.
"Fuck, Tesoro, so tight, you feel so good squeezing my cock," Othello groaned before taking his mouth in a heated kiss.
Des wrapped his arms and legs around his lover as their bodies rocked together, shaking the sturdy bed and filling the room with their lovemaking and scent. Des had never felt this treasured before.
The way Othello held him while they made love brought tears to his eyes. He knew he would fall in love with Othello and be shattered if they ever broke up. His body wasn't the only thing that ached for Othello. It was his heart as well.
"Othello...Othello..." he chanted like a prayer as shivers wracked his body, meeting his lover's every thrust. “Slow,” he moaned. “Slow down, please.”
“I can’t,” Othello grunted. “You feel too good.” He held Des so tight he was sure he would lose his breath, but the pleasure was more important.
Des dug his nails into Othello's back, feeling his precum pooling between them, becoming lubrication as his cock jerked and rubbed against Othello's muscled stomach, sending delightful sensations all over him. With the added stimulation of Othello’s large cock pounding into him, brushing against his prostate, he couldn't hold back, cumming and soaking their stomachs.
Othello grunted Des's name and buried his face in Des's neck, cumming and filling the condom, and Des wished he could feel his lover's hot cum filling him. Othello didn't stop moving his lips; he continued to fuck him through both their orgasm. Othello raised his head and looked into Des's face.
"Can you go again, Tesoro?" he asked, breathlessly. "I haven't had my fill of you yet."
"Good, because I need more of you," Des said, claiming his lips. They kissed for a little longer before Othello pulled out and changed the condom before pushing back inside of him.
Des wasn't sure how long, which positions, or how many times they went at it before he fell asleep, but one thing he knew was that he was becoming very addicted to Othello and his cock.
A few hours later, Des snuggled his back into Othello's chest, who had an arm wrapped around him. He had fallen asleep and woken up with Othello holding him like a precious gem. After a few hot kisses, they were basking in the afterglow of their lovemaking, and Des was glad that he had waited to be with someone who would take him to heights that had his body still tingling.
He hummed, feeling very content, even with the pain in his hips and ass as evidence that Othello didn’t have a pencil dick. He mentally shook his head, recalling that morning after his drunken stupor. Signing, he looked around the room and noticed that the candles had burned to almost nubs during their intimate moment, but the moon seemed much brighter. Des hadn't expected their night to turn out so beautifully.
"You look happy," Othello whispered in Des's ear, his voice tender and bringing a smile to Des's face.
"I am." He looked up at Othello, his eyes reflecting how happy he felt. "I guess this bed is ours now, right?"
"I'm a man of my word, Tesoro," Othello told him.
"And whose apartment will it be going to?" Des inquired, his curiosity piqued and anticipation evident in his voice, but he hoped Othello didn't get the wrong idea. He liked the man and wanted their relationship to blossom, but he wasn't ready to move in with him.
"I can have it sent to yours," Othello stated.
"Really?" Des asked, excited. He really liked the bed, and the artist in him couldn't let it go to someone else. But the significance of keeping the bed he and Othello made love in made him feel warm and tingly inside and out.
"Yes." Othello chuckled.
"You continue to impress me, Mister Moor."
"I aim to please."
“But when did you plan all of this?"
"While you were napping." Othello dragged his tongue along Des's neck, sucking up a mark before settling back into his pillows, holding Des tighter.
"Was I sleeping that long?"
"Mm." Othello chuckled. "Are you in any pain?"
"A little, but you were gentle."
"We should head home so I can get you in the tub. Then put some more ointment on it." Othello made to get up, but Des stopped him.
"No, not yet." Othello looked at him. "I'm not ready to leave yet."
"Are you sure?" he asked.
Des nodded. "I want to stay in your arms a little more."
Othello palmed one of his cheeks, then leaned down and kissed him. "Okay, we'll stay a little longer."
He settled back into bed with Des in his arms like before. Sighing happily, Des clasped their fingers, admiring the tattoos on Othello's fingers that were in Portuguese, but meant death, and a passage in Arabic on the backs of his hands.
"What does it say?" he asked Othello, rubbing the tattoo.
"Never forget, never regret, never forgive," Othello answered.
"Does it say the same thing on both hands?"
"No." Othello kissed him on his shoulder. "The other says no regrets, no hesitation."
Des turned his head and observed Othello's handsome face, wondering what could have made him make those personal vows.
"What?" Othello quirked a brow, looking at Des.
"I want to know everything about you," he said. "I know we talked a lot before we got together, but we've kept some personal stuff from each other. If this is going to work between us..." He chewed on his bottom lip, staring at Othello, not sure if he should continue or if he was asking too much.
"What do you want to know?" Othello asked.
"Where were you born?"
"Here in Verona Heights. My real parents died when I was young."
"Wait, I thought..." He stopped speaking, brow furrowed, showing his confusion.
"Alessandro and Maria adopted me and Iago."
"Oh. That makes sense. I'm sorry about your real parents," Des whispered.
"Don't be. I don't remember much about them." A look crossed his face, and Des could tell he was trying to recall a memory or two, but nothing of significance came to him. "Anyway, when they died, I was sent to a group home, which is where I met Iago." His face brightened at the mention of Iago’s name.
"You two are really close, huh?"
"He's my best friend, brother, and the only man I trust to watch my back," Othello explained. "We fight, we love, and encourage each other. Growing up, we were fucking hellions. It hasn't changed much. We just found a different way to terrorize people." He chuckled. "Iago’s about to be a father, and I'm happy for him."
"So you're going to be an uncle? Congratulations."
"Yup, and I plan on spoiling the kid rotten, no matter what Iago says."
It would have been the perfect time to ask if Othello wanted kids of his own. Instead, Des smiled at hearing Othello talk about his brother. "I'm kind of jealous of your relationship with him. Being an only child was hard enough, but being ignored and feeling unloved by my parents was worse."
"I don't think your parents hate you," Othello commented. "They were just trying to..."
"Stifle my creativity," he snapped, sitting up and ignoring the pain in his ass, but he was suddenly feeling fired up that Othello was taking his parents' side. "I told you just a little of what my parents did. But they lied to me for years, forcing me into a career I never wanted, and now I have to start from scratch to catch up to where I should have been. How can you take their side?"
"I'm not taking their side, Tesoro." Othello pulled him back into his arms. "Your parents were wrong with their approach, but answer me one question. Was being a doctor really that bad? And be truthful," he said, lightly tapping the tip of Des's nose.
Sighing, he shook his head. He'd always said that although he hated his job, he knew he was good at it. "It wasn't so bad."
"I think the reason you hated it was because your parents pushed you into it. If you had chosen it for yourself, things would be different."
Des couldn't argue with Othello's logic. "Why do you have to sound so sensible," Des told him. Othello chuckled, then kissed him on the forehead. "I'm not going back, Othello. I know I was good at my job, but I don't want to be responsible for another person's life that way again. And I won't forgive my parents. For years, I did what they wanted. Now it's time for me to live for me."
"You don't have to do anything you don't want to, Tesoro. You've made your decision, and now the only thing is to move forward. As for your parents, I won't comment on that." Othello pulled him close. "One day, you might forgive them, but there's nothing wrong with letting your anger out occasionally. If Alessandro and Maria did the same to me, I doubt I'd speak to them again."
Des looked at Othello and saw the truth in his eyes. "Thanks for listening."
"Anytime, Tesoro."
"I like that," Des told him between yawns, pressing his face into Othello's chest, as his eyes suddenly grew heavy, as if he'd been drugged. "I like it when you call me your treasure."
As he closed his eyes, a soft kiss touched his forehead. "That's because you are," Othello whispered as he fell asleep.
Cassio glared at the man in front of him. "When you agreed to work with us, it was with the understanding that you needed to give us everything on Moor."
"And when have I gone back on that deal?" his companion stated.
Cassio went to slap the man in the face, but Antonio Greco stopped him.
"So you didn't know he was dating?" Antonio asked.
"Dating who?" the man said, standing.
"You really didn't know?" Greco said.
"No, but how did you find out?" the man said.
"We saw them tonight at the Celeste Grand Plaza," he said. "They were pretty cozy. It's a side of Moor I've never seen before. We almost didn't want to interrupt them. It's a shame Moor is probably fucking that little sweet body right now. I must say, Moor knows how to find good-looking companions." He smiled. "I can't wait to take this one away and ruin him like I did the last one."
"You better not let Stephania hear you say that." Greco chuckled.
"Man can't live on bread alone, my friend. Every now and then, he also likes a little meat." He chuckled and looked at their companion. "Find out who he is. I want to know all I can about him before I make my move."
"Yes," the man said with no hesitation.
Cassio stared at their companion, wondering if he felt guilt for his actions. He didn't think he could go against his family. With his brother terminally ill, it was up to him to look after the clan. Now, Cassio was protecting his brother from all who would use his illness as the perfect time to strike their family. As much as he trusted Antonio, not even he knew that Dominico wasn't just working from Italy but bedridden for the rest of his life. Dominico taught him to protect everyone in the family, from the top to the lowest soldier, so they would never think to betray them.
It was evident the Romanos did not have the same ideals since the man in front of him portrayed no remorse. When he first came to them, he’d said he wanted to take down the Romano clan, or to be more specific, Moor. When they asked why, their companion asked that his reasons remain personal.
His answer only made Cassio and Greco suspicious since they knew how dedicated he was to the family. They had given him a test to bring back information on what the Romano clan was up to. When he came back with what they wanted, they decided to help him. That was a year ago, and so far, their cooperation had borne much fruit.
"Another thing," Greco said. "For your information on the Kurohue, we'll give you the resources you need for your next plan to take Moor out."
"Thank you, but I'll wait to take those resources."
"Why, are you giving up?"
"Hell no, but for now, I'll shift my focus from him to someone else," the man said.
"Dare we ask who?" he said.
Their companion smiled. "Pay attention to the news in the coming weeks, and you'll get your answer. Until then, good night."
They watched him leave before Cassio spoke. "When can we kill him?"
"Once he gives us what we want," Greco responded. "Back in the day, I had high hopes for Alessandro, but he lost my respect when he adopted that little thug and announced he'd be the next successor," Greco snarled. "How dare he ruin a tradition of only our kind sitting at the head of the family?"
"Is that why you agreed to give resources to the little rat?"
"Yes," Greco said, standing. "What about you?"
He stared at his boss for a few seconds. "Honestly, I don't care about all that shit; I simply hate Moor and want to see the cocky bastard on his knees, begging me to spare his life before I kill him."
Greco smiled. "Come to my bed tonight."
"I should update my brother on what's going on."
"Do it tomorrow tonight. I need to be inside of you," Greco said.
Cassio smirked. Greco was a good-looking and fit man, even in his fifties. They had been on-and-off-again lovers since he started working for the Greco clan. Cassio didn't deny that he enjoyed going to bed with Greco but wanted to sink deep into someone younger tonight. Or maybe he could imagine it. "What of your wife?"
Greco leaned down and kissed him. "Remember the rule. Never mention Phillipa when it's just us."
Greco captured his mouth before he could say anything else.
"Is this all the information you could dig up on Doctor Ellington?" Jackson Durrant asked.
"I wouldn't be here if it weren't," Othello snapped, annoyed that he left the comfort of his bed with Des wrapped around him not only to go to work but to meet with the asshat sitting across from him. For the past couple of days, he had put everything on hold to spend time with his new lover. He'd forgotten what it was like to wake up with someone in his arms, and for the past two days, it was a dream. He couldn't wait to end his day to see his lover.
"I see a lot of things here about Ellington, but nothing about his wife and son."
"Because there's nothing to see," Othello sighed.
"There's got to be something," Durrant said. "Nobody is clean. He's got to have something in his closet."
"Yes, he does," Othello said, leaning close. "Me." He ignored the surprised expression that crossed Durrant’s face. "If I hear you're looking into his background, or you let the dogs sniff in his direction, I will come for you. "
"I—I—I mean, I didn't. I wouldn't—" he stuttered.
Othello stood along with his men, who came with him. He fixed his jacket with his eyes on Durrant. "Don't be too quick to use what I gave you. Let the information out slowly, then let everything explode at the right time."
"I know how to do my job," Durrant snapped.
"I hope you do, because if you don't heed my warning…"
Durrant nodded, and Othello walked out of the coffee shop with Tallen next to him.
"Boss, are you sure the doc won't be mad about the information we gave to Durrant?"
"He gave up his chance to be mad at me. He told me he didn't want to know what his father was up to, and I stuck to my word."
Othello didn't know when the information on Ellington Sr. would be revealed to the public. Still, it would damage not only his career as a doctor and politician but also his family.
"Tallen, from now on, I want you to look out for Des when I'm not around," he said, getting in his car.
"Okay, boss." Tallen got in the driver's seat and drove them to the office, where Iago was already working hard.
"What are you doing here?" Iago asked.
"I feel like you ask me that every time you see me," Othello told him.
Iago chuckled. "Don't take it to heart. It's that lately you're either working or taking time off."
"Hey, I only took two days off, not a whole year."
Iago nodded.
"Alright, what's on today's agenda?"
They walked and talked about what they had to do for the day. A few construction projects were currently in the works, and a few were finishing up.
"The Kurohue-gumi clan canceled the meeting," Iago said.
Othello stopped walking and looked at his brother. "Why?"
Iago shrugged his shoulders.
Othello furrowed his brows. He had been looking forward to making a deal with Takashi Kurohue, the leader of the Kurohue clan. Othello wanted to expand their operation to Japan. He’d rather not work with Kurohue, but Alessandro's close friend had convinced him that Kurohue would be good to work with. Othello couldn’t put his finger on it, but something about Kurohue rubbed him the wrong way.
"I hope they aren't going to be working with someone else?"
"I don't know," Iago said.
Now that Othello thought about this, it was the third time he was supposed to meet with another boss to discuss business cooperation, only to later find out they went and made a deal with Greco and Ricci. Someone was fucking with his bag, and Othello didn't like it one bit.
Fuck, how did it take me this long to realize the traitor was working with them? When I find the rat, I'm going to kill them with my bare hands.
"What are you thinking?" Iago asked him.
Othello looked at his brother. "Find out why they canceled."
"I'm already on it, but what will you do in the meantime?"
"Nothing," he said, not sure why he was lying to a man he trusted with his life. Right now, he wasn't sure if he could trust anyone until he found out who the Judas was in the clan. "I'm going to let you handle this."
"Are you sure?"
"Of course." Othello smiled. "Alright, I'm going to get some work done."
Before he could enter his office, Iago stopped him and stared at his face. "There's something different about you. Two days ago, you were all grumbly and ready to cut my head off, and today, you seem easygoing. What did you do those two days off?"
"I relaxed," Othello said. "Something you should think about doing?"
Iago went to say something but was stopped by his ringing cell phone. "I have to take this," he said, looking at the screen.
"Do you, man. I'm going to get some work done." Othello stepped into his office and did just that.
Later that night, Othello entered Des's apartment, shaking his head at Des for not locking the door as he set the grocery bags on the counter. The neighborhood was safe, but you never knew what could happen. He then went and searched for his lover. He had texted Des and told him he’d be stopping by after work, so maybe that's why he left the door unlocked.
Othello looked around the apartment and noticed that Des had unpacked more boxes since the last time he had been there. It didn't look like he had a lot to fill his large apartment. Taking the stairs two at a time, his brows creased together when he got to the top of the stairs, hearing voices that not only belonged to Des. He walked down the hall. They were in the part of the apartment that Des had designed as his studio. He was about to interrupt but stopped when he heard his name mentioned.
"Do you think Othello will like it?"
"I do. This is brilliant work, Des. When you quit working at the hospital, I doubted that you could do this, but after seeing this, I believe you can make it as an artist."
"Thanks, Gray. I needed to hear that. To be honest, I doubt myself. I still do. I keep wondering if my parents were right and I'm no good at this."
"Hey, man, don't do that to yourself. This is your dream. This is something that you've wanted to do your entire life. Remember, your grandfather believed you could do this, or he wouldn't have defied your parents."
"I know. And I just don't wanna let him down. I want him to look down from wherever he is and be proud of me. Be proud that I put my everything into this."
"He is, and he will be. Just keep doing what you're doing. And when you become super famous and mega rich, I'll be able to say that's my best friend."
"Quit that. I'm not doing this for fame, but I don't mind the mega-rich part."
Hearing the silence between them, Othello pushed the door open. "He's right, you know."
Both men gasped and turned to look at him. "Othello, what are you doing here?" asked Des.
"I texted you and told you I was coming. Your door was unlocked, so I let myself in." Although he was speaking to Des, his eyes zeroed in on the man who called himself his lover's best friend. Who would've guessed it was someone he’d had run-ins with.
"Oh, damn," Des said. "I was so focused on finishing up the painting that I didn't hear my phone."
"Detective Gratiano, I didn't expect to see you here," Othello said, moving farther into the room.
"You know each other? Gray, you never mentioned that."
"Only in passing," Gray answered, glaring at Othello, who smirked at his feeble attempt. "Mr. Moor and I have spoken a time or two."
Hearing that, Othello quirked an eyebrow in the man's direction. Is that what he wants to call it? Fine, then we'll go with that.
"Alright, I can tell you to have plans, so I'm going to head out," said Gray.
"Are you sure? Don't you want to stay for dinner?" Des said. "I would love for my best friend and my lover to get along."
"I bought enough groceries for only the two of us," Othello added before the detective could respond.
"Oh." Des sighed, then turned to look at Gray. “How about we change plans and meet for lunch or dinner some other time?"
"That sounds great." Gray smiled, then leaned in and kissed Des on one cheek. "Don't give up on yourself, Des."
He looked at Othello, this time less threatening, and nodded as he walked by him.
"Let me walk him out," Des said, coming over to kiss Othello.
While he was gone, Othello took the time to observe the painting Des had done for him. Weeks back, he’d commissioned a painting of Alessandro and Maria on their wedding day. To be given to them at the anniversary party. Othello had taken a gamble since he had never seen Des's work, but looking at the artwork, he could only say he'd made the right decision.
Des had captured the essence of the couple's love. He had gone a bit further by incorporating a pose of them now, with Alessandro holding Maria possessively, staring deep into her eyes with admiration that would make anyone jealous, desiring the same kind of affection just standing in front of the artwork. Othello had only given Des the wedding picture, so the other pose had to be taken from his heart.
"I hope you like it," Des said, standing beside him. Othello heard the slight tremor in his voice, and he could tell the man was nervous.
"I feel that it is wrong you won't let me pay you for this," Othello said, gazing at Des. "The detective is right, and as someone who appreciates fine art, your confidence comes out in your work. Don't sell yourself short, Doc."
That brought a genuine smile to Des's face, and his cute dimples became more pronounced.
"Thanks for saying that. And I knew there was a reason I was so attracted to you from the beginning."
"So you'll let me pay you?"
"Hm...only with kisses." He smiled. "And lots of them."
"Gods, you're so cheap." He chuckled. "But someone I can definitely afford." Othello wrapped Des in his arms, pulling him close and claiming his sweet lips.
A couple of days later, Othello sat in the far back corner of a dive bar on the other side of town, looking at the person who had just sat before him.
"I'm sorry I'm late. I had to ditch my partner to meet with you."
"It's fine. I called you out on short notice," Othello said, leaning back in his seat. "When were you going to tell me you and Des were friends?"
Gratiano sighed. "I mean no disrespect when I say this, boss, but I didn't expect you two to get together. Des told Bianca and me about his attraction to you, and I guess I wasn't expecting him to follow through and pursue you. I love him as a friend," he added quickly. "But when it comes to putting himself out there, he doesn't for fear of rejection. It's why he never fought his parents when they pushed him to become a doctor. He's changed since he met you."
Othello nodded. "I don't think I can take credit for that. It's always been inside of him. I assume you don't want him to know about our connection?"
"Not yet." Gratiano sighed. "He's not ready to hear that his best friend has been a part of the mob since he was sixteen and only became a cop so that he could watch his boss’s back. Maybe one day I'll tell him, but not yet."
"He knows about me, Gratiano," Othello said.
"You told him?" Gratiano asked, seeming surprised.
"When have I ever lied about me or my family?"
"Forgive me, but that's not what I meant. It's just that, I figured Des would have walked away once he found out you're a mob boss." He sighed and sat back in his chair, hard. "I guess he's really changed."
"He took the news pretty well," Othello said with a smile. "But he did ask if I killed anyone."
"What did you tell him?"
"I found ways to distract him." He waggled his eyebrows at his friend.
Gratiano chuckled. "You might think he forgot, but he'll bring it up again."
"Then I'll keep distracting him until he stops asking. Alright, enough of that. There's another matter why I called you out here."
"Okay, I'm listening."
"I need you to go undercover and investigate who is working against us. There's a rat amongst our midst, and I want you to sus them out."
"Okay, how?" Gratiano asked.
Othello reached into his jacket pocket, pulled out an envelope, and handed it to Gratiano. "This is some information on the shooting from the warehouse six months ago. We're still trying to figure out who ambushed us. My money is on the Ricci and Greco families. Find the link between them and our rat. Report anything you find to me and no one else. Right now, I don't know who to trust."
"Yes, boss."
Othello stood, but before he could walk away, Gratiano spoke.
"I'm loyal to you and have been since you first took me in as a friend. I owe you a lot, Othello. And although I might not be able to kick your ass, if you hurt him, nothing will stop me from trying to kill you."
Othello smiled. "Then you're no longer loyal to me, Gratiano, or should I call you Gray from now on?"
"Anything that makes you happy, boss," Gratiano said, looking at him.
"Contact me when you have something significant."
This time, Othello walked away, feeling the need to see his little treasure.