“That sounds like a good life,” I admit, allowing myself this one moment of honesty.
“Yes,” he agrees. “It does.”
The candle flickers between us, casting shadows that seem to dance with all the words we cannot say. For a heartbeat, I let myself imagine that other life—one where vows and offices don’t stand between us, where the attraction I feel wouldn’t be a crisis of faith.
“We should go,” I say reluctantly, finally creating distance betweenus. “Being away too long will raise questions.”
“You’re right.” He gathers his documents reluctantly, tucking them into an inside pocket. “I’ll have my security chief contact Sister Lucia about the joint task force. He can be trusted.”
“And I’ll ensure the Vatican’s cooperation.”
We move toward the door, our temporary sanctuary coming to an end. Before opening it, Matteo turns to me.
“Marco,” he says quietly, “be careful. They’ll try again.”
“You too.” I resist the urge to touch his injured face, to offer comfort I have no right to give. “God be with you, Matteo.”
“And with you,” he replies, a small smile playing at his lips. “Though I think we might need more than divine intervention against these people.”
“Then it’s fortunate we have each other.”
As we step out into the night, returning to our separate worlds and the dangers that await us there, I feel something I haven’t experienced in a long time—the exhilarating certainty of having found an ally who understands exactly what I’m fighting for. And if that alliance brings with it other feelings, more complicated and dangerous ones, I’ll face those too.
For now, we have a common enemy and a reason to stay connected. In these treacherous times, that may be blessing enough.
As our cars travel in opposite directions—his toward the heart of Rome, mine back to the Vatican—I touch my hand where it had supported him, still feeling the warmth of his body against mine. I should be contemplating the corruption we’ve uncovered, the danger facing us both, the solemn responsibility I bear as Christ’s Vicar on Earth.
Instead, I find myself remembering the way his eyes held mine when he spoke of what’s “happening between us.” The way my body responded to his proximity. The almost painful restraint required notto move closer still.
God forgive me, but in that moment in the chapel, I wanted to be simply Marco—not His Holiness, not the Holy Father, not the successor to Peter. Just a man drawn to another man’s strength, intelligence, and conviction. Just Marco, free to act on the desires I’ve denied my entire life.
I close my eyes and pray for guidance, but the only answer I receive is the memory of Matteo’s words echoing in my mind: “I find myself thinking about our meetings far more than matters of state would justify.”
As do I, Matteo. Far more than I should allow myself to admit.
8
Midnight Meetings
Marco
The secure phone buzzes discreetly in my desk drawer. Two weeks since our meeting at the chapel, and I’ve grown accustomed to the quiet vibration that signals a message from Matteo. Our “joint security task force” has provided the perfect cover for our continued communication—a necessity born of danger that has evolved into something I look forward to more than I should.
I glance at my office door to ensure it’s closed before retrieving the device. Father Tomás believes it’s merely a dedicated line for Vatican security updates.
New financial connections discovered between Antonelli’s foundation and Russo’s family holdings. Need to discuss. Usual time tonight?
My fingers hover over the screen. These exchanges began as purely professional—sharing discoveries about the corruption network we’re mapping together. But lately, our conversations have drifted beyond investigations into more personal territory. Last night, we spent an hour discussing my theological studies in seminary, his childhood in Naples. The ease of our communication should worry me more than it does.
I’ll be available. Library access secured. No staff after 10 pm.
I send the reply, then pause before adding:
Found records of Vatican investments in Calabrian development projects. Suspicious transaction patterns. Will bring documentation.
There’s a moment’s hesitation before his response appears:
Looking forward to it. Both the documents and the company.
