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He ignores my implication. “The situation is grave. Protests continue outside the Vatican. Several bishops’ conferences have issued statements expressing concern about the scandal. And the Italian parliament is in chaos over Prime Minister Valentini’s… involvement.”

“And Matteo? Have you news of him?”

Antonelli’s lip curls slightly at my use of the Prime Minister’s first name. “He faces a vote of no confidence. His coalition is fracturing. It seems his career, like your pontificate, may be shorter than anticipated.”

The barb stings, but I don’t give him the satisfaction of a reaction.

“The College of Cardinals meets tomorrow,” he continues. “As your Secretary of State, I strongly advise you to consider a voluntary resignation. It would spare the Church further scandal and allow for a dignified transition.”

“And if I decline your advice?”

His eyes harden. “Then the College will be forced to consider more… formal measures. For the good of the Church.”

“The good of the Church,” I repeat. “Or the good of those who profit from corruption?”

Antonelli’s face flushes. “You dare accuse—”

“I dare speak truth, Eminence. As Christ did to the Pharisees.”

He composes himself with visible effort. “Consider your options carefully, Holy Father. You have until tomorrow morning to make your decision.”

After he leaves, I sit in silence, contemplating the choice before me. Resign and abandon the reforms I believe God called me to implement? Or fight and risk schism within the Church?

Neither option seems right. There must be another way.

* * *

Night falls again on my captivity. I’ve spent hours in prayer, seeking guidance, finding only questions.

A soft tap at my door reveals not Lombardi but Sister Lucia, her presence a shock.

“How did you—”

“Captain Lombardi arranged it,” she whispers, glancing behind her. “I have only moments. Cardinal Sullivan asked me to bring you this.”

She presses a small device into my hand—a secure phone, similar to the one I used with Matteo.

“It’s encrypted. One number programmed. He’ll be waiting for your call at midnight.”

“Sullivan?”

“No.” Her eyes meet mine. “The Prime Minister.”

My heart leaps. “Matteo?”

She nods. “Cardinal Sullivan believes you both need to coordinate your response. And…” her voice softens, “he thought hearing his voice might strengthen your resolve.”

After she leaves, I clutch the phone like a talisman, counting the hours until midnight.

When the time comes, I slip into my bathroom, turn on the shower to mask any sound, and make the call.

“Marco?” His voice fills my ear, and tears spring to my eyes.

“Matteo,” I whisper. “Thank God.”

“Are you alright? Sullivan says they’ve practically imprisoned you.”

“I’m physically fine, but isolated. They’re moving to force my resignation tomorrow. And you?”

“Fighting for my political life,” he says with a grim laugh. “The no-confidence vote is scheduled for the day after tomorrow. But I’m not backing down, Marco. I won’t apologize for loving you.”

His words fill me with warmth and resolve. “Nor I you.”

“Sullivan and my Justice Minister have been coordinating. We have evidence linking Antonelli and Visconti directly to the Vatican Bank corruption. If we release it—”

“It could tear the Church apart,” I finish.

“Yes. But it might save your pontificate.”

I close my eyes, weighing the options. “What about Colonel Reichlin? Sullivan says he’s been deceived.”

“We’re working on that. My intelligence service has analyzed the threats he received. They’re sophisticated forgeries. If we can prove that to him—”

“Then the Swiss Guard might return to their proper duty,” I finish. “Protecting the Pope, not ignoring his imprisonment.”

“Exactly.”

We talk strategy for several minutes, then fall into a moment of silence.

“Marco,” he says finally, “whatever you decide, know that I stand with you. In love, in faith, in purpose.”

“As do I with you,” I whisper.

After we disconnect, I kneel in prayer, but this time with clarity rather than confusion. The path forward has revealed itself—not resignation, not defiance, but truth.

* * *

Morning brings Cardinal Sullivan himself to my door, accompanied by Captain Lombardi .

“Your Holiness,” Sullivan embraces me, his aged face lined with worry. “We haven’t much time. The College convenes in two hours.”

“You’ve spoken with Reichlin?”

“Not yet. But we’ve prepared evidence showing the fabricated nature of the threats. Lombardi will present it to him directly.”

I nod to the young captain. “Be careful. Much depends on you.”

“I understand, Holy Father.”

After Lombardi departs, Sullivan and I discuss my plan. His eyes widen as I explain what I intend.

“It’s risky,” he warns. “They could still force a vote.”

“They could,” I agree. “But they’ll do so in the light, not darkness. Before the world, not behind closed doors.”

Sullivan studies me, then nods slowly. “You’ve found your way through this wilderness.”

“Not my way,” I correct him. “God’s way. Through truth, not fear.”

As the hour approaches for the College to convene, I dress not in the formal papal vestments they expect, but in a simple white cassock. No regalia, no trappings of office—just the basic garment of my role.

Sullivan watches me with understanding. “The servant, not the ruler.”

“As Christ taught us,” I reply.

We walk together toward the meeting hall, accompanied by the two guards Antonelli assigned to “protect” me. Their expressions reveal confusion at my calm demeanour.

Outside the hall, I pause, turning to Sullivan. “Whatever happens, James, know that I am at peace with my decision.”

“And what is that decision, if I may ask?”

I smile, feeling a tranquility I haven’t experienced since before the scandal broke.

“To be who God made me to be. Both Pope and man. Both servant of the Church and a person capable of love.” I straighten my shoulders.

“ I will not resign. Nor will I hide. I will face them with truth—about the corruption they’ve protected, about the love they condemn, about the faith they claim to defend. ”

Sullivan’s eyes glisten. “Then may God be with you, Holy Father.”

“He is,” I say with certainty. “In ways I’m only beginning to understand.”

I step forward toward the doors, ready to face whatever comes next—not as a prisoner of fear, but as a man liberated by truth.