*VINCENZO*
The mahogany table was polished to a sickly sheen, reflecting the dim light overhead, casting an awkward glow on the faces of the Mafia Dons gathered like vultures around a carcass. I sat uncomfortably, feeling the weight of their boredom pressing down on my chest. It was the same tired arguments, the same grumbled complaints about the police, and whispers of rival families, all recycled. I couldn't help but think: how long can we go on trading the same old insults while everyone else moves forward? My thoughts drifted, tangled in the web of my emotions.
Each time a Don spoke, I felt more certain that I was ready to shift the balance of power in our little universe—to take what was rightfully mine, still so unofficially Oren's. The de Luca name had become synonymous with weakn
