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Summary
“Oh, Vincent,” Bellini laughs with genuine mirth, if not warmth. “The curia may be a wasp’s nest, but we aren’t a pack of lemmings. No one is competing for that poisoned chalice. Even Thomas would merely accept it. He would accept anything, from your hand. But you’d never do such a thing to him.”
“But you think I’d do it to you.” Vincent smiles. “Aldo, nobody is going to be sacrificed. Not in this century. Not if I can help it.”