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Coalition Fracturing

Matteo

The morning cabinet meeting turns into exactly what I expect—a political bloodbath. My coalition partners glare at me across the polished conference table like I’ve suggested we switch to a monarchy with me as king.

“This isn’t what we agreed to, Prime Minister,” Senator Bianchi slams his palm against the table. “The financial disclosure requirements for party officials go beyond reasonable oversight.”

I lean forward. “Reasonable oversight is precisely what allowed billions in corruption to flourish under previous administrations.”

Carlos sits at my right, nodding along with practised conviction. My Deputy Prime Minister has perfected the art of appearing supportive while giving absolutely nothing away. I’ve known Carlos since university—we’ve built this party together, but I harbour no illusions about his ultimate ambitions.

“The Prime Minister’s anti-corruption package represents the mandate we were elected on,” Carlos offers smoothly. “The people expect action.”

“The people expect competent governance,” Minister Falcone counters. “Not witch hunts that paralyze the administration. ”

I stand, bracing my hands on the table. “When fifty-four percent of Italians believe politicians are corrupt by default, we don’t have the luxury of half-measures. The legislation moves forward as written.”

The room erupts in overlapping arguments. I catch Carlos’s eye, noticing the subtle tightening at the corners of his mouth. He’ll voice his real thoughts later, away from the others.

“Enough,” I cut through the noise. “We’ll reconvene tomorrow. Review the provisions and come prepared with specific concerns, not generalized complaints.”

As the room clears, Gabriella Esposito remains seated, her silver-streaked hair pulled into a severe bun that matches her expression. My Justice Minister has been fighting corruption cases since before I finished secondary school.

“You’re making enemies faster than friends, Matteo,” she says once we’re alone.

I loosen my tie. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

“You need to understand something.” She closes her portfolio with deliberate care. “This legislation isn’t just about cleaning house. It’s about dismantling power structures that have operated unchecked for generations.”

“That’s exactly the point.”

“No.” Gabriella fixes me with the stare that has broken hardened criminals in court. “The point is that these aren’t abstract entities you’re challenging. They’re people with names and addresses who believe they’re entitled to their power. People who attempted to have you killed last week.”

The memory of glass shattering above my head flashes through my mind. “All the more reason to press forward.”

“I agree. But don’t mistake Carlos’s public support for private loyalty.”

I sigh. “I’ve known Carlos for ten years. ”

“And I’ve prosecuted men who betrayed friendships of fifty.” Gabriella stands. “Just watch your back. Some will oppose you openly. Others will smile while they sharpen their knives.”

After she leaves, I find myself staring at the ceiling, my thoughts drifting unexpectedly to the Vatican Library and the young Pope’s earnest eyes. Something about Marco Ricci’s quiet intensity has lingered with me in a way I can’t quite explain.

A knock interrupts my thoughts.

“Enter.”

Carlos walks in, closing the door with deliberate care.

“That went well,” he says, voice dripping with sarcasm.

I laugh despite myself. “Could’ve been worse.”

“It will be.” Carlos drops into a chair. “The Agriculture Minister is threatening to resign. Transportation and Energy are coordinating their opposition. And I’ve got three party officials demanding emergency meetings.”

“Let them demand, nothing changes.”

Carlos studies me. “You know I support the broad strokes of what we’re doing. But the implementation timeline is political suicide. We need to phase these requirements in gradually.”

“We’ve been phasing in anti-corruption measures for decades. That approach gave the corrupt time to adapt.”

“It also gave governments time to survive.” Carlos leans forward. “You’re asking lifelong politicians to suddenly expose financial connections they’ve spent careers obscuring. They’ll burn the government down before allowing that.”

“Let them try.”

“This isn’t just about courage, Matteo. It’s about strategy.” Carlos’s tone softens. “Your approval ratings jumped twelve points after the assassination attempt. Use that political capital wisely.”

I turn to the window, gazing across Rome’s skyline toward the Vatican’s dome in the distance.

“I met with the new Pope,” I say, changing subjects.

Carlos raises an eyebrow. “And?”

“He’s… not what I expected.”

“How so?”

I hesitate, unsure how to describe the unexpected connection I felt. “He seems genuine. Interested in actual reform.”

“A reformist Pope?” Carlos laughs. “Give him time. The Vatican machinery will grind him down like all the others. The bureaucracy wins, always.”

“Maybe.” I remember Marco’s words about love being divine will, not human interpretation. “Maybe not.”

“Speaking of the Vatican,” Carlos shifts forward, “there are rumours about investigations into the Vatican Bank. Please tell me you’re not picking that fight simultaneously.”

Before I can answer, my chief of staff Riccardo bursts through the door without knocking, his usually immaculate appearance dishevelled.

“Prime Minister, we have a problem,” he announces. “Finance Minister Russo just gave an interview calling the anti-corruption package ‘draconian’ and suggesting a complete redraft.”

Carlos shoots me a look that screams ‘I told you so.’

“Where?” I demand.

“RAI News. It’s already trending. Opposition leaders are calling for emergency debates.”

I grab my phone. “Get me Russo. Now.”

“He’s conveniently unreachable,” Riccardo says. “But his staff leaked that he’s meeting with party leaders from three coalition factions this afternoon.”

“Coordinating their resistance,” Carlos murmurs.

“Or planning a no-confidence vote,” Riccardo adds .

I pace the length of the conference room. “How many votes can we count on if it comes to that?”

Riccardo and Carlos exchange glances.

“Currently? Not enough,” Riccardo admits. “We need to make concessions or build new alliances fast.”

“I want numbers on my desk in an hour,” I order. “And schedule a press conference for this evening. We’re going to remind everyone exactly why this legislation matters.”

After they leave, I call Gabriella.

“You’ve heard about Russo?” I ask when she answers.

“I’m looking at the interview transcript now,” she replies. “Russo’s playing a dangerous game.”

“Can your office accelerate the release of those files on the Naples construction scandal? The ones implicating Russo’s brother-in-law?”

A pause. “That would be viewed as political retaliation.”

“It would be viewed as transparency. Exactly what our legislation promotes.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” Her tone carries a warning. “But fighting dirty cuts both ways, Matteo.”

She sighs, and I can picture her rubbing her temples the way she does when weighing difficult decisions. “While we’re talking, I’ve made a decision about our anti-corruption efforts.”

“What kind of decision?” I ask, immediately alert to the determination in her voice.

“I’m establishing a specialized Anti-Corruption Task Force, effective immediately. I’ve already signed the ministerial order and allocated emergency funding from my discretionary budget.”

This catches me by surprise. “Without cabinet approval?”

“The Justice Ministry has the authority to create specialized investigative units without prior consultation. I’m exercising that authority before someone tries to block it. ”

I smile at her boldness. “You’ll face backlash.”

“Let them come. I’ve secured office space in the Justice Ministry’s east wing—deliberately separate from other departments to minimize interference. I’ve already pulled in our best investigators from financial crimes, organized crime, and public corruption divisions.”

“You’ve been planning this.”

“Since the assassination attempt,” she confirms. “I realized we can’t wait for the legislation to pass. We need an operational unit that can start following the money trails immediately, especially if they lead to the people who tried to have you killed.”

I walk to the window, processing the implications. “Cross-jurisdictional authority?”

“Full spectrum. They can follow investigations wherever they lead—across government departments, into the private sector, even internationally if necessary. I’ve already initiated paperwork for cooperative agreements with Europol and Interpol.”

“Who’s leading it?”

“Prosecutor Alessandra Ricci. She’s incorruptible and fearless. Turned down three private sector offers that would have tripled her salary.”

“Any relation to our new Pope?” I ask, the coincidence of the surname striking me.

“None that we know of. She starts tomorrow morning with a team of twelve. I’ve secured dedicated technical resources, independent servers, and encrypted communications.”

I’m impressed by how thoroughly she’s planned this. “You’ve designed it to be bulletproof.”

“And politician-proof,” she adds pointedly. “Once established, it would require parliamentary action to dismantle it, not just a ministerial or prime ministerial order.”

“You’re protecting it from me too,” I observe .

“I’m protecting it from everyone, Matteo. Including future versions of ourselves who might face pressures we can’t anticipate.”

I consider the political ramifications. “The timing is risky. Our coalition is already fracturing over the legislation.”

“The timing is perfect,” she counters. “While they’re fighting over disclosure requirements and implementation timelines, we’ll have an operational unit already following the money. By the time they realize what’s happening, we’ll have investigations too advanced to easily shut down.”