Europe / Vatican City / St. Peter's Basilica: June 22nd, 2020.
It was a beautiful morning for the world.
The sun had risen over europe like a pale rich man pretending he had nothing to do with the crimes committed in the dark, the clouds moved slowly across the sky like old witnesses refusing to testify, and mankind went about their morning routines with smiles on their faces at the beauty of the city, but also sad looks on their faces at the horror of it whether it be financially, emotionally or physically.
Yet if you were to look closely in vatican city.
To be more specific, inside of saint peter's basilica.
You could see something very interesting happening.
Two armored men on both sides escorting a luxerious dressed chunky man.
The atmosphere was tense.
Something was happening.
Not all at once.
Not like a building collapsing after one clean explosion.
No.
This was uglier.
Slower.
Quieter.
The kind of collapse that started with whispers, then questions, then letters that stopped being answered, then men in avoiding eye contact, then women in pearls pretending they had always hated you, then old men asking questions they already knew the answer too.
This was something that would change the fate of a house forever.
(Romeo de' Medici V's POV)
*Tak*
*Tak*
*Tak*
Heavy armored footsteps sounded.
A chunky 6'5 with a luxerious robe attire on, light olive skinned man with, slicked back jet black hair, dark brown colored eyes made his way down the grand hall with his head held high, his bottom lip pursed, his eye lids lowered, his arm resting behind his back and his gold cane supporting his big frame as he robe fluttered behind him.
The hall was completely silent, the sound of footsteps reverberating throughout it as the three men arrived at a room.
"Your grace, the pope is inside." Said one of the guards as both took their stations.
Romeo glanced at both of them in the corner of his eyes while opening the double doors and saying as he entered with his head held high "Humph…"
"Welcome, duke romeo de' medici." Said an elderly, light skinned argentinian man with a slightly hunched frame, a round wrinkled face, thinning snow white hair circling a mostly bald head, heavy pale eyebrows, soft dark brown eyes, a broad nose, large ears and thin pale lips sat quietly behind a grand desk with his fingers folded together.
The room was went silent.
The double doors closed hardly behind romeo.
*Boom*
"Francis. It's been awhile since we've last met." Said romeo with squinted eyes as he made his way over to the sofa chair and took his seat comfortably.
Francis's eyes sharpened subtly as he said "Don't get to comfortable, your gra…"
"I have every right to enjoy my lavishness. I was invited. Not the other way around, francis." Said romeo with his slightly lided eyes lowering even more as he poured himself a cup of tea.
Francis was silent for a moment and said while leaning forward slightly "Do you think that I called you here merely for tea."
The room was silent, the atmosphere heavy.
"Why else would I be here, francis." Asked romeo with a confused look in his eyes as he took a sip from the cup full of tea.
Francis sighed and leaned back into his seat with his arms interlocked atop his protruding belly and said "Because…I've decided to withdraw all support for the medici family. I've called upon your grace to inform you face too face."
The room went completely silent.
Romeo was completely frozen. His face was dark with a unknown look ok it.
"Florence is yours. No man in this room disputes that. Your father made certain of it in 1950 when he surrendered tuscany and chained florence to your family name. But ownership is not sanctity, Your grace. And the church will no longer dress ownership as divine order." Said francis calmly as he stood up from his seat and started taking his leave from the room.
*Boom*
Romeo placed his face in his hands with a sigh and thought "What do I tell father now. I've ruined the family fortune. The account lists our fortune at 5 million and the citizens aren't paying their rent"
The room was silent.
"And now that francis withdrew all support. I have no political affiliation anymore and now my new business partners will likely look the other way." Said romeo with another sigh as he rubbed his forehead for a moment with his left hand.
Romeo remained seated in silence.
The room was quiet.
Too quiet.
His fingers slowly stopped rubbing against his forehead.
His dark brown eyes remained lowered toward the carpet as his breathing became calmer.
Something shifted behind them.
Not fear.
No.
Fear was what lesser men felt when a door closed.
Romeo de' medici v was not a lesser man.
He was a duke.
A medici.
A man born from a house that had purchased loyalty before most families learned how to spell their names.
His slightly lidded eyes slowly widened.
A thought crawled into his mind.
Ugly.
Greasy.
Useful.
Romeo slowly removed his hand from his forehead and leaned back into the sofa while saying with a dry mutter "Five million."
The room was silent.
"Father only knows what the account books tell him. And father has not walked into the treasury himself in twelve years" Thought romeo with his eyes narrowing.
His fingers tapped lightly against the head of his gold cane.
*Tak*
*Tak*
*Tak*
A small smile slowly formed on his lips.
Gian gastone de' medici II was 95 years old.
Sharp.
Cruel.
Suspicious.
But old.
Old enough to trust paper when his knees refused to carry him toward the truth.
Old enough to believe a seal more than a servant.
Old enough to mistake silence for obedience.
Romeo's smile widened as he thought "What if there was no withdrawal"
The room remained completely still.
"What if francis merely requested a temporary restructuring of our political relationship. What if the church did not abandon us. What if the church praised our independence" Thought romeo as his eyes slowly lifted toward the large double doors.
His bottom lip pursed.
A low chuckle escaped his throat "Hehehe…"
Romeo leaned forward slightly.
He could return to florence and have the ducal secretary prepare a private report.
A clean report.
A beautiful report.
One written on thick cream colored paper with red borders, golden lettering and enough old latin to make every reader feel stupid for questioning it.
The report would say that the vatican had chosen to reduce public communication with the medici family because of growing unrest across europe.
Not withdrawal.
No.
Strategic silence.
Temporary distance.
A mutual decision made to protect the house.
Romeo's eyes became colder as he thought "And the seal"
Cardinal bellini still owed the family money.
Three hundred thousand.
A gambling debt dressed as a church renovation loan.
Bellini would stamp anything romeo placed beneath his fat fingers if the alternative was having his private ledgers delivered to the Italian press.
The old cardinal would provide a vatican seal.
Not the pope's seal.
Romeo was not stupid.
But close enough.
Old enough.
Holy enough.
His father would see the red wax, the latin, the cardinal's signature and the words mutual agreement.
Then he would stop asking questions.
For a while.
Romeo slowly licked the inside of his cheek.l while thinking darkly "But five million is still five million"
That was the greater wound.
The family could survive an insult.
They could survive whispers.
They could survive francis pretending the church had suddenly discovered morality.
But five million dollars could not hold florence.
It could not pay the guards.
It could not maintain the palaces.
It could not feed the servants.
It could not repair the roads, preserve the museums, silence the banks and continue dressing the medici name in silk.
Romeo's fingers tightened around his cane.
Then another thought appeared.
Sharper than the first.
The plague.
The world was afraid.
Cities were closing.
Businesses were dying.
People were hiding inside their homes and purchasing anything that promised life.
Masks.
Gloves.
Alcohol.
Medicine.
Ventilators.
Death had become an industry.
Romeo's eyes glistened as he said with a whisper "Two million."
He would take two million from the remaining fortune.
Quietly.
Not from the primary account.
From the restoration reserve his father had forbidden anyone to touch.
The money would pass through three shell companies in luxembourg, one private foundation in malta and a florentine medical charity whose directors had not attended a meeting in six years.
From there, it would be invested into santoro biomedica.
A small tuscan manufacturer drowning in debt.
They produced disposable masks, protective gowns and hospital filters.
Ugly products.
Cheap products.
Products no duke should ever have to look at.
But products every frightened government in europe now wanted by the millions.
Romeo had heard two businessmen discussing the company during dinner three nights earlier.
Santoro could not fulfill its contracts because it lacked machinery.
Two million dollars would give it machinery.
It would also give romeo control.
Not publicly.
Never publicly.
The medici name would not be seen begging for profit from a disease.
The charity would purchase the shares.
The shell companies would own the charity.
Romeo would own the shell companies.
And when government orders arrived, the money would return to him washed, perfumed and wearing a clean white collar.
His chest began rising faster.
"Ten million by winter" Thought romeo while rubbing his fat double chin.
Perhaps twelve.
Perhaps more if the second wave came.
A nasty warmth spread through his belly.
For the first time, he finally felt alive.
The suffering of europe had finally become useful.
But santoro biomedica alone would not be enough.
The citizens of florence had stopped paying rent because they believed romeo could not evict them all.
They were correct.
Evicting half the city would create cameras, protests and questions.
But he did not need to evict them.
He could forgive them.
Publicly.
Romeo's smile became broad.
He would announce a six month medici rent mercy program.
The newspapers would call him compassionate.
The church would look cruel for abandoning a generous duke during a plague.
The citizens would cheer.
His father would see crowds beneath the palace windows shouting the family name.
And hidden within every mercy agreement would be a new clause.
Missed rent would not disappear.
It would become debt.
Debt with interest.
Debt tied to property, employment, and inheritance.
Any florentine who signed would receive immediate relief and spend the next twenty years paying the family back.
Those who died would pass the obligation to their estates.
Those who owned businesses would place them as collateral.
Those who owned nothing would owe labor hours to the ducal office.
Romeo's eyes widened with delight as he thought "They will thank me for chaining them"
The silence shattered.
"HA."
Romeo threw his head back and laughed very loudly "HAHAHAHAHAHA."
His laughter bounced against the walls.
It climbed toward the painted ceiling, struck the gold molding and returned louder.
Tears gathered in the corners of his eyes as his belly shook beneath his luxurious robe.
"Francis. You foolish old two faced bastard" Thought romeo between laughs while wiping one eye with his finger.
He slowly pushed himself from the sofa with the support of his cane.
*Tak*
His robe fell around his large frame.
His chin lifted.
His eyelids lowered.
The fear that had covered his face moments earlier disappeared beneath the old medici arrogance.
Romeo glanced toward the desk francis had abandoned and smiled with all of his white teeth and said softly "You withdrew your support. So I will purchase better support. It is the way of medici after all."
He turned toward the doors.
*Tak*
*Tak*
*Tak*
Each strike of the cane sounded lighter than before.
Romeo reached the double doors and pulled one open without waiting for the guards.
Both armored men straightened immediately.
Romeo stepped between them with his head held high, his left arm resting behind his back and his robe fluttering proudly behind him.
"Your grace." Asked one of the guards carefully.
Romeo glanced at him from the corner of his eye and said with his bottom lip pursed "Prepare the car. Florence requires its duke."
The guard bowed while saying "At once, your grace."
Romeo continued down the grand hall.
His gold cane struck the marble.
*Tak*
*Tak*
*Tak*
Then his laughter returned.
Low.
Wet.
Nasty.
"Hehehehehe…"
Not knowing that this was only just the start of the masked medici dance.
…
THE END…