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Dropped Pretenses

Matteo

I watch the parliament chamber erupt into chaos.

My statement acknowledging my relationship with Marco—with the Pope—has shattered any pretense of business as usual.

The opposition benches pound their desks in unified outrage while my own coalition fractures before my eyes.

Representatives huddle in small groups, whispering urgently, casting furtive glances my way.

“Order! Order in the chamber!” The Speaker’s voice barely rises above the din.

Gabriella leans toward me. “We should leave now. This isn’t productive.”

I nod, gathering my papers as we stand to exit. The jeers grow louder.

“Resign!” someone shouts from the opposition.

“Blasphemer!” calls another.

I keep my chin up, my pace measured. I will not give them the satisfaction of seeing me flee.

In the corridor, Sophia rushes to meet us, her face taut with worry. “Two more coalition partners have announced they’re withdrawing support. The Christian Democrats and the Rural Alliance. ”

“That puts us below the threshold,” Gabriella calculates quickly. “We no longer command a majority.”

I lean against the wall, the marble cool against my palm. “How long until the no-confidence vote?”

“Tomorrow morning,” Sophia says. “Carlos’s working fast. He’s already giving interviews positioning himself as the stable alternative.”

My security detail guides us to a private conference room where my remaining loyal ministers wait. Their faces reflect varying degrees of concern, determination, and in some cases, resignation.

“The situation is critical,” Finance Minister Renata begins without preamble. “The markets are already responding. The euro is down against the dollar, the European Union President has already reached out demanding an explanation, and Italian bonds are taking a hit.”

“What about the corruption investigation?” I ask. “Where do we stand with the evidence against Carlos and the others?”

Justice Minister Gabriella’s secretary Taddeo shakes his head. “We need another week at minimum to compile everything for formal charges. The prosecutors are working around the clock, but—”

“We don’t have a week,” Gabriella interrupts. “We have hours.”

I pace the length of the conference table. “What are our options?”

“Realistically?” Sophia looks at me with uncharacteristic directness. “You need to issue a clarification. Say the photos were manipulated or taken out of context. Claim your relationship with the Pope is purely professional, focused on mutual anti-corruption efforts.”

“Lie, you mean.” The words taste bitter.

“Or frame it as a misunderstanding,” she continues. “Say you were offering comfort to a spiritual leader under tremendous pressure. Play up the Catholic angle—you were seeking guidance, absolution.”

I shake my head. “That’s still a lie.”

“It’s politics,” Renata counters. “And it might be the only way to save your government and the anti-corruption legislation. Everything we’ve worked for is at stake.”

“I need some air,” I announce. “Thirty minutes. Then we’ll reconvene and make decisions.”

Outside in the courtyard garden, I find a bench partially hidden by a flowering oleander. The spring air carries the scent of blossoms and distant rain. I close my eyes, trying to centre myself amid the political hurricane.

“I thought I’d find you in the gardens.”

I look up to see Gabriella standing there, her expression softer than it had been in the conference room.

“I thought you were strategizing with the others,” I say, shifting to make room for her.

“They can manage without me for a few minutes.” She sits beside me, her posture straight but her eyes kind. “Sometimes the most important strategy is knowing when to step back and remember why we’re fighting in the first place.”

I laugh without humour. “Is that what we’re doing? Fighting?”

“Aren’t we?” She looks at me directly. “The question is what exactly we’re fighting for.”

“The anti-corruption legislation. The reforms. All the promises I made to the Italian people.”

“And your integrity? Is that not worth fighting for as well?” Her voice is gentle but firm. “Matteo, I’ve stood beside you since the beginning because you were different. You meant what you said. People trust you because you’ve always been honest to a fault.”

I turn to face her fully. “And now you think I should lie? Deny Marco?”

“I didn’t say that.” She plucks a leaf from the oleander, examining it carefully. “I’m merely asking you to consider what matters most. If you start living a lie now, you lose yourself. And once that happens, what are we fighting for anyway? ”

“You know what they’re going to do to me in that vote tomorrow.”

“I do.” She nods solemnly. “I’ve been in politics long enough to count votes accurately. But I’ve also been in justice long enough to know that the truth has power of its own.”

My phone buzzes again with multiple notifications. I glance down to see headlines streaming in:

POPE PIUS CALLS EMERGENCY MEETING OF CARDINALS

VATICAN IN CRISIS AS POPE REFUSES TO STEP DOWN

CARDINAL ANTONELLI: “HOMOSEXUAL RELATIONSHIP DISQUALIFIES POPE FROM OFFICE”

“He’s fighting for his position too,” I murmur.

“Then fight alongside him,” Gabriella says simply. “Not by denying him. Our anti-corruption campaign has always been about bringing truth to light. Why stop now when it matters most?”

I’m about to respond when Sophia appears at the garden entrance, waving urgently. “Matteo! You need to see this.”

We hurry back inside to find the ministers gathered around a television. Carlos’s face fills the screen, his expression solemn as he addresses reporters outside parliament.

“…a profound moral crisis that threatens the very foundations of our republic,” he’s saying.

“Prime Minister Valentini has not only betrayed his office but has engaged in a relationship that undermines the sacred institution of the Church. I call upon him to resign immediately and allow a government of national unity to restore dignity to our nation.”

The camera pulls back to reveal Cardinal Lombardi standing beside him, nodding gravely.

“They’re moving faster than we anticipated,” Gabriella says. “They’ve already formed an alliance.”

“Of course they have,” I reply, anger rising. “They’re the same corruption network we’ve been investigating. Carlos gets to be Prime Minister, and Lombardi protects the Vatican Bank operations. ”

“Matteo,” Sophia touches my arm, her eyes pleading. “Please reconsider. We can still salvage this. Issue a statement denying the relationship. Call it fake news, a political attack, anything. We can weather this storm if we act now.”

I look around at the faces of my loyal ministers, at my sister who has stood by me through everything, at Gabriella who watches me with quiet confidence.

“I’ve made my decision,” I announce. “I will address parliament tomorrow before the no-confidence vote. I will not deny my relationship with Pope Pius. I will not apologize for loving a man of integrity and courage.”

Sophia’s face falls. “Matteo, please—”

“No, Sophia.” I take her hands in mine. “I understand what you’re asking, but I can’t do it. Not even to save my government.”

“Then what’s your plan?” Gabriella asks. “Because Carlos has the votes to remove you.”

“My plan is to tell the truth. All of it.” I turn toward Taddeo. “Release everything we have on the corruption investigation. Every document, every bank record, every connection between Carlos, Russo, and the Lombardi Foundation. I want it all public before tomorrow’s session.”

Taddeo’s eyes widen. “But the investigation isn’t complete. Some of the evidence may not hold up in court without further—”

“We’re out of time,” I cut him off. “If I’m going down, I’m taking them with me. The Italian people deserve to know exactly who’s positioning himself to lead them. If we don’t release these documents now, then they will never get a chance to be argued in court!”

“This is political nuclear war,” Renata warns. “You understand that?”

“I do.” I stand straighter, resolve hardening within me. “But I didn’t enter politics to play it safe. I came to fight corruption, to make Italy better than I found it. If I have to sacrifice my position to expose the truth, so be it.”

“That’s the Prime Minister I’ve always been proud to serve,” Gabriella says with a firm nod.

“What about the Pope?” Sophia asks quietly. “This decision affects him too.”

I nod, feeling the weight of that responsibility. “I’ll speak with him tonight. Whatever happens, we face it together.”

As the ministers disperse to prepare for tomorrow’s battle, Sophia remains behind, her expression troubled.

“You could turn out to be Italy’s greatest Prime Minister,” she says softly. “The reforms, the anti-corruption measures—all of it will die if you lose the vote.”

I touch her cheek gently. “Maybe. Or maybe the truth has power of its own. Either way, I couldn’t live with myself if I denied him. Not for political expediency, not even for the reforms.”

“I’ve always admired your principles,” she sighs. “Even when they drive me crazy.” She hugs me tightly. “Whatever happens tomorrow, I’m with you.”

“Thank you.” I return her embrace, grateful beyond words for her loyalty.

After she leaves, I stand alone in the conference room, watching the lights of Rome twinkle in the gathering dusk. Tomorrow may end my political career, but it will not end my commitment to truth. I think of Marco, facing his own impossible choice between his calling and his heart.

I take out my phone and type: I won’t deny us. Whatever comes, we face it honestly. Together.

His reply is immediate: Truth will set us free. I love you, Matteo.

I press the phone to my heart, drawing strength from his words. Tomorrow we may lose everything we’ve worked for, but we will not lose ourselves.