“Possibly. But I believe the Italian people will support anti-corruption efforts, even if the political establishment doesn’t.” He runs a hand through his tousled hair. “Besides, I’m tired of half-measures and political calculations. Aren’t you?”
“Completely.” I lean forward, pressing my forehead against his. “Wecould lose everything, you know. Your government, my papacy.”
“Or we could change everything.” His eyes hold mine, fierce with conviction. “Isn’t that worth the risk?”
Instead of answering, I kiss him—not with the desperate passion of last night, but with a steady certainty that feels like a vow. When we part, I whisper against his lips, “Whatever happens, I don’t regret a moment of this.”
“Neither do I.” He cups my face in his hands. “Not one second.”
We dress slowly, helping each other with buttons and straightening collars, each touch a lingering connection. As I fasten the last button on my cassock, I feel a momentary pang—the return to our formal roles, the necessary separation that awaits us.
“When will I see you again?” I ask, unable to keep the longing from my voice.
“I don’t know.” He adjusts my collar with gentle hands. “The security protocols will be intense for both of us after this.”
“We’ll find a way,” I promise. “Even if it’s just secure calls at first.”
He nods, then reaches into his pocket and presses something into my palm—a small silver medallion on a thin chain. “It was my grandfather’s. He gave it to me when I entered politics. Said it would protect me.” His smile is slightly embarrassed. “I’m not particularly superstitious, but…”
“But it seems to have worked so far,” I finish for him, deeply moved by the gesture. I slip the chain around my neck, tucking the medallion beneath my collar where it rests against my skin. “I’ll keep it safe until we meet again.”
A soft knock at the door signals the return of our security teams. Our time alone is ending.
“Ready?” Matteo asks, straightening his tie one final time.
“Ready.” I take a deep breath, feeling a new certainty settle within me. “Let’s change the world.”
He grins, that familiar flash of confidence that first caught my attention in the Vatican library. “One scandal at a time.”
As the door opens and our separate security details enter, we exchange one last look—a silent promise that what began in these hidden hours will continue, no matter what challenges await us beyond this sanctuary.
The Pope and the Prime Minister step forward to meet their teams, but Marco and Matteo remain connected by something stronger than titles or protocols—a bond forged in truth, in danger, and in love that neither of us expected but both now recognize as a gift we won’t surrender easily.
* * *
I return to my private apartments as dawn breaks over St. Peter’s Square. The Swiss Guard detail that escorted me from the secure bunker maintains a respectful silence, though I notice their questioning glances. After twelve hours in isolation with Matteo, returning to my role feels like stepping into someone else’s life.
Captain Lorenzo Lombardi approaches as we reach my study door. “Your Holiness, with your permission, I’d like to provide a brief security update.”
“Of course, Captain. Please come in.”
Once inside, Lombardi stands at parade rest, his posture impeccable despite what must have been a sleepless night. “We’ve neutralized two of the three assassination teams, Your Holiness. Five suspects are in custody, being interrogated by a joint Vatican-Italian task force.”
“And the third team?”
His expression tightens slightly. “They escaped the initial dragnet, but Colonel Reichlin is coordinating with Italian authorities. We have descriptions and are monitoring all borders and transportation hubs.”
“Any identification of who sent them?”
“Preliminary evidence suggests Calabrian ‘Ndrangheta involvement, as we suspected. The captured operatives are professional mercenaries with previous connections to organized crime.” He hesitates. “There are also indications of… internal assistance.”
“Someone within the Vatican,” I say. It’s not a question.
“Yes, Your Holiness. The assailants had detailed knowledge of security protocols and scheduling.” His eyes meet mine directly. “Colonel Reichlin has initiated a compartmentalized investigation. Only he and I have full access to the findings.”
“Good. I trust your discretion, Captain.” I pause. “And Prime Minister Valentini?”
“Secure at his residence, with enhanced protection. The Italian security services have implemented their highest protection protocols.” Lombardi’s expression remains professional, though I detect a flicker of something—perhaps curiosity—at my specific inquiry about Matteo.
