Marcello’s POV
The room hummed with confusion and anticipation as Vincenzo made his way to the stage. His calm, composed movements did nothing to quell the surge of jealousy and indignation welling up inside me. The audacity of it all! My father, the godfather, had called Vincenzo to the stage—Vincenzo! Not me, his own flesh and blood.
I couldn't hold back any longer. My fists clenched, and I pushed through the crowd, making my way to the front of the stage. My heart raced with a mixture of disbelief and fury. I could feel the eyes of everyone on me, but I didn’t care. What I needed now was an explanation, and I wasn’t going to wait any longer.
"Father!" I called out, my voice thick with frustration. "What is the meaning of this?"
Gambino turned slowly, his sharp eyes locking onto mine
