The apartment was quiet, almost too quiet, the kind of silence that felt heavy instead of peaceful. Aaliyah lay on the couch with one hand over her belly, gently rubbing where Estrella seemed to rest. Damiano watched her from across the room, trying to pretend he wasn't worried, even though the shadows under his eyes said everything.
Damiano: "How's she doing?"
Aaliyah: "She's calm today… too calm, maybe."
Damiano: "You sure you're okay?"
Aaliyah: "Yeah… I just can't stop thinking."
And she had every reason to.
Italy was burning with drama again.
#TeamAaliyah vs #TeamBand
Debates on TV.
Ex–bandmates being dragged online.
Winona fighting back at the press like a lioness.
Maneskin giving support interviews back to back.
Their lives weren't lives anymore—
they were headlines.
Aaliyah grabbed her phone. Messages, mentions, attacks, support, fan edits, conspiracies… all mixed into one chaotic storm. And somewhere in the middle:
"ESTRELLA? IS THAT THE BABY'S NAME?!"
"LEAKED: THEIR DAUGHTER'S NAME IS OUT."
She groaned softly.
Aaliyah: "They had ONE thing that was still ours… and they took that too."
Damiano: "I'll find out who leaked it. I swear."
His phone rang.
Another call he didn't want.
He stepped out to answer.
Aaliyah could hear the muffled voice of someone important on the other end.
Unknown voice: "…this is serious, Damiano. You need security. A long-term contract. Relocation if necessary…"
Damiano: "We're not leaving Italy."
Voice: "Then you need to act NOW. Before it gets worse."
Damiano: "It already got worse."
He hung up, jaw tense.
Aaliyah: "Was that about the baby?"
Damiano: "It was about all of us. They're offering full protection if things escalate."
She sat up, the fear behind her eyes unmistakable.
Aaliyah: "Damiano… how much more can we take?"
Damiano: "As much as we need to. Estrella comes first."
He sat next to her, placing a protective hand over hers.
Suddenly her belly tightened—sharp, sudden, not quite pain, but not normal either.
Aaliyah: "…Damiano?"
Damiano: "What's wrong?"
Aaliyah: "It feels… different. Not contractions, just… pressure."
He went pale.
Damiano: "Do we need to go to the hospital?"
Aaliyah: "No—no, it's not that strong. I think she just moved weird. She's fine."
But her voice trembled.
And he heard it.
Damiano: "We're calling the doctor. Now."
Aaliyah: "Damiano—"
Damiano: "No. Non si discute."
He dialed immediately.
Doctor: "Describe exactly what she felt."
Aaliyah: "Just pressure. Not pain. But… she's quieter today."
Doctor: "You need to monitor her movement closely. If she slows down more, or if the pressure becomes pain, come immediately. Stress affects fetal behavior."
Aaliyah felt a chill.
Damiano felt rage.
Damiano: "Stress. Always stress. They're hurting her without touching her."
Aaliyah: "Damiano… don't lose it now, please."
He softened instantly.
Damiano: "I'm here. I'm calm. And I'm not letting anything happen to you two."
She lay against his chest, listening to his heartbeat—steady, protective, scared in secret.
Outside, a roar of voices grew louder.
Another crowd.
More paparazzi.
More chaos.
Aaliyah closed her eyes.
Aaliyah: "This isn't life anymore…"
Damiano: "No. But it's temporary. And when Estrella is born—everything changes."
She didn't answer.
Not because she doubted him—
but because deep down, she felt the storm coming.
Something bigger.
Something close.
Something dangerous.
And neither of them knew that the next 24 hours would change everything.