The label's conference room felt colder than usual, the kind of cold that didn't come from air-conditioning but from people who had already made up their minds. Damiano sat at the long glass table, shoulders tight, jaw locked, trying not to show the anger bubbling under his skin. Across from him, the executives shuffled papers and murmured among themselves, like they were preparing for a war he never agreed to fight.
Executive 1: "Damiano, this situation with Aaliyah is getting out of hand."
Executive 2: "We're receiving pressure from sponsors. They don't want to be associated with instability."
Executive 3: "Your image is tied to the band. And the band is tied to the label. Her scandals affect all of us."
Damiano's hands curled into fists.
Damiano: "She's pregnant. She's being harassed. She's been lied about. And you think she's the problem?"
The executives exchange a glance, the kind that always meant danger.
Executive 1: "Some are suggesting… distancing yourself from her publicly."
Executive 2: "At least until the baby is born."
Executive 3: "It would protect your career. And the band's."
Damiano felt the heat rise to his face, the kind of anger that made his vision blur.
Damiano: "No. I'm not abandoning her. Not now, not ever."
The room stiffened—because they weren't done.
Executive 1: "If you refuse… there will be consequences. Reduced promotions. Delayed projects. Possibly even a freeze on your contract."
Damiano stood up so fast the chair hit the wall.
Damiano: "Do whatever the hell you want. I'm not leaving my family."
He stormed out, slamming the door hard enough to make the glass tremble.
Meanwhile… Aaliyah was outside the room. She had heard everything.
She had come with Winona to check on Damiano, worried about his stress level, but the second she reached the hallway, voices leaked through the door—strong, cold, cutting through her like knives.
She wasn't supposed to hear it.
But she did.
Executive: "She's dragging him down."
Executive 2: "If she loses the baby, the backlash will destroy his image."
Executive 3: "He needs to wake up and protect himself."
Aaliyah froze.
Every word stung like fire.
Winona saw her daughter's face pale instantly.
Winona: "Baby? What is it? What did you hear?"
Aaliyah: "They think I'm ruining his life… even if the baby…"
Her voice cracks.
"…even if Estrella doesn't make it."
Winona grabbed her shoulders tightly.
Winona: "Aaliyah. Look at me. Those men don't know you. They don't love you. They don't carry your pain. Damiano chose you. Damiano fights for you. Don't let their poison inside your head."
But Aaliyah had already spiraled inward.
Every insecurity.
Every fear.
Every headline.
All crashing at once.
Then it got worse.
Winona's phone buzzed.
She frowned.
Winona: "Oh no… baby… don't look online."
Aaliyah blinked.
Aaliyah: "Why? What happened now?"
Winona hesitated—too long.
A new article was blowing up everywhere:
BREAKING NEWS:
"Psychiatric Reports Connected to Aaliyah's Past Resurface — Experts Question Her Ability to Be a Mother."
Aaliyah's heart dropped so fast she felt dizzy.
Aaliyah: "No… no… they can't… they can't do this to me…"
Pictures from her past.
Old panicked moments.
Clips edited to make her look dangerous.
Her worst nightmare
— weaponized.
Winona steps in again
Winona grabbed her daughter before her knees buckled.
Winona: "Listen to me. They want you scared. They want you to break. You WILL NOT."
Aaliyah: "They're trying to take my baby from me…"
Winona: "They're trying to take your peace. Not your daughter. And I'll go after anyone who threatens her."
Her mother's voice turned sharp, fiery—like steel being drawn.
Winona: "If the media wants a war, they'll get one."
Damiano finally finds them
He bursts into the hallway, breathless, face flushed from anger—only to see Aaliyah trembling against the wall.
Damiano: "Aaliyah? What's wrong? What happened?"
She tries to speak, but her voice breaks.
Aaliyah: "You… you're losing everything because of me…"
His heart stops.
Damiano: "No. Don't say that."
Aaliyah: "The label wants you to leave me. They think I'm ruining your life. They said the baby—"
She chokes on the words.
"—if something happens to Estrella… it'll destroy your image…"
Damiano's face goes pale—then furious.
Damiano: "You heard that? You weren't supposed to—dammit—Aaliyah, listen to me."
He grabs her face gently, but firmly.
Damiano: "You are NOT a burden. You are NOT ruining my life. And Estrella is not a mistake."
Aaliyah: "But they—"
Damiano: "I don't care what they say. I don't care what I lose. I choose you. I choose our daughter. Every damn time."
Aaliyah sobs, finally letting the fear break through.
Winona stands guard behind them, glaring like she's ready to fight anyone who comes near.
But the pregnancy takes another turn
Suddenly, Aaliyah grips her stomach.
Aaliyah: "…Damiano… something feels wrong…"
Her breath shortens.
Too fast.
Too shallow.
Winona: "Honey? Talk to me—what hurts?"
Aaliyah: "My side—my back—something feels… tight…"
Damiano's panic skyrockets.
Damiano: "We're going to the hospital. NOW."
Winona pushes the elevator button repeatedly.
Winona: "Move! Move!"
As the doors close, Aaliyah leans into Damiano, whispering through the pain:
Aaliyah: "Promise me… no matter what they say… don't leave me."
Damiano presses his forehead to hers.
Damiano: "Never. Even if the whole world tries to tear us apart."
The elevator descends.
The threat outside grows.
The pressure rises.
And Estrella's fate hangs by a thread.