Chapter Text
The Holy Father keeps on his desk an old photograph that his best friend loved so: three smiling children and two dogs. It's both a souvenir and a trophy. They're his: in a way, they already belonged to him in life, as it was thanks to his generosity to their dear Papa that they had such a comfortable life in the first place... if not at all. He could and did dispose of them as suited him.
Now they're a reminder to everyone in the business to never disrespect him, and to himself to never go soft again and give too much away on not enough guarantees. Because he does miss the days he was so lenient with his best friend and regrets that he lost him in the end. It won't happen ever again. No more weaknesses. Any favour will be accounted and repaid in precise terms and delays.