Page 97 of Sacred Hearts

The door to the library opens, and Pope Pius emerges. He looks exhausted but somehow lighter, as if a burden has been lifted.

“Colonel, Captain,” he acknowledges us. “Cardinal Visconti has confessed to his role in the financial crimes. The others remain defiant.”

Reichlin bows slightly. “The Italian authorities are prepared to take them into custody, Your Holiness.”

Marco nods. “Let justice be done.” He turns to me. “Captain Lombardi, were you able to contact Prime Minister Valentini?”

“Yes, Your Holiness. He expressed great relief at your safety and asks if you would speak with him when possible.”

A small smile touches the Pope’s lips. “Please arrange that call, Captain. There is much we need to discuss.”

As the cardinals are escorted out by Italian police, Colonel Reichlin stands at rigid attention before the Pope.

“Your Holiness, I offer my resignation as commander of the Swiss Guard. I have failed in my most sacred duty.”

Marco studies him for a long moment. “I decline your resignation, Colonel. You recognized the deception and acted to correct it. That shows true loyalty.”

“But Your Holiness—”

“We have all been tested by these events, Colonel. What matters is not that we stumbled, but that we found our way back to the truth.”

Reichlin’s stern demeanour softens. “Thank you, Your Holiness. I will not fail you again.”

As I watch this exchange, I realize we’re witnessing something extraordinary – not just the exposure of corruption, but the forging of a new kind of loyalty. One based not on blind obedience to tradition,but on a shared commitment to truth and justice.

The Vatican has been reclaimed. The Pope is free. And somehow, against all odds, the future seems brighter than before.

25

Vote of No-Confidence

Matteo

I stand in the parliamentary chamber, my entire body tense with anxiety. The tension in the air feels thick enough to cut with a knife as the votes are tallied. Every face turned toward the electronic board, watching numbers climb.

“Prime Minister Valentini,” the Speaker’s voice echoes through the chamber, “the results of the no-confidence vote are as follows…”

I straighten my tie, refusing to show any hint of the anxiety coursing through me. The evidence against Carlos and his corrupt allies has swayed some opinions, but the scandal of my relationship with Marco—with the Pope—remains fresh in everyone’s minds.

“Those in favour of the motion of no confidence: 315.”

A collective intake of breath fills the chamber. The opposition benches stir, faces lighting with premature triumph.

“Those against the motion: 319.”

The chamber erupts. Four votes. Four bloody votes stand between me and political oblivion. I remain perfectly still as chaos unfolds around me—cheers from my supporters, outraged protests from the opposition, the Speaker banging his gavel repeatedly to restore order.

“Order! The motion of no confidence has been defeated. Thegovernment shall continue.”

Gabriella grips my arm, her fingernails digging through the fabric of my suit. “We did it,” she whispers, her voice trembling with relief. “By the skin of our teeth, but we did it.”

I nod, unable to speak for a moment. The margin is razor-thin—the narrowest possible victory, leaving my government wounded but alive. The coalition has fractured, with several parties withdrawing support entirely. We’ll be operating with a minority government now, every vote a potential crisis.

“Prime Minister!” Journalists shout from the gallery as I rise. Camera flashes explode like lightning around me. I ignore them all, gathering my papers with deliberate calm.

“Your statement, sir?” my communications director asks quietly at my shoulder.

“Outside. Five minutes.”

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