The hallway outside the neonatal unit felt colder than usual. Damiano stood stiff, hands trembling slightly as the door opened and the doctor approached with a sealed envelope. The kind that carried the kind of truth no parent wanted to read.
Doctor: "These are Estrella's updated results. They're… complicated."
Damiano's heart dropped.
Damiano: "Complicated how?"
Doctor: "She's stable enough to keep fighting, but her oxygen levels fluctuate unexpectedly. Some hours she improves, others she drops sharply. We need to keep her under strict observation."
Behind the doctor, Estrella lay in the incubator—tiny, fragile, her chest rising and falling in slow, delicate movements. Damiano pressed his forehead to the glass.
Damiano: "Just breathe, piccola. That's all you have to do."
Before he could whisper anything more, his phone exploded with notifications.
Winona appeared behind him, face tense.
Winona: "Damiano… don't look at the news."
Too late.
The headline glared at him like a knife:
"Damiano David's Mother Breaks Silence: 'Aaliyah Manipulated My Son'"
Another one:
"Exclusive: Intimate Details About Their Relationship Revealed by Damiano's Own Mother."
Damiano's blood turned to fire.
Damiano: "She didn't. She wouldn't—"
Winona: "She did. She's in front of cameras right now."
Dylan: "This was planned. Someone pushed her."
The world online erupted instantly:
#ShameOnHer
#RespectAaliyah
#LetThemHeal
#SupportEstrella
Italy was furious. The U.S. was louder. And global fans were tearing apart every network that chose to broadcast the attack.
MANESKIN ARRIVES
Victoria was the first to burst into the hospital room, followed by Ethan and Thomas. None of them hesitated; their faces were sharp, protective, furious.
Victoria: "We saw the interview. This is bullshit."
Ethan: "Your mother crossed a line, man."
Thomas: "We're with you. With Aaliyah. With Estrella."
For the first time in days, Damiano's chest loosened.
Damiano: "Thank you… I— I needed that."
Victoria: "We're calling the label. We're calling our lawyers. Anyone who touches Aaliyah or leaks anything about Estrella is done."
THE PROTECTOR STEPS IN
A security officer approached Winona quietly.
Guard: "Ma'am… he's here."
Winona's eyes widened.
Winona: "The protector?"
Guard: "Yes. He wants to speak to you and Dylan privately."
They stepped into a silent corridor—where a tall man in a suit waited, face hidden under a cap, two agents behind him.
He handed Winona a document.
Protector: "Your family is now under international protection. Damiano's mother will be silenced legally within hours. The media attack ends tonight."
Winona's breath shook.
Winona: "Thank you… whoever you are."
He nodded once.
Protector: "Focus on the girl. I'll handle the war."
AALIYAH'S COLLAPSE
Damiano rushed back to Aaliyah's room, needing to update her, needing to hold her hand—
But something felt wrong the moment he stepped inside.
Her monitors were beeping irregularly.
Her breathing was shallow.
Her skin pale.
Damiano: "Aaliyah? Amore? Hey— look at me…"
She didn't move.
The nurse rushed in first.
Nurse: "She's losing consciousness—!"
Damiano's pulse exploded.
Damiano: "Aaliyah! Stay with me— PLEASE!"
The doctor pushed everyone aside.
Doctor: "She's going back into a stress-induced coma. We need to sedate her to stabilize her vitals for the next 48 hours."
Damiano: "No— no, wait— she just woke up— please—!"
But her body had already gone limp.
Winona grabbed his arm as he shook violently.
Winona: "Damiano— Damiano, stop— she needs this— it's the only way to keep her alive."
He pressed his forehead against hers as the team worked.
Damiano: "I'm right here… I'm not leaving… I swear."
Aaliyah didn't respond.
She was already drifting away again.
THE WORLD REACTS
Minutes later, an official hospital statement was released:
"Aaliyah has entered a medically supervised coma for stabilization. Estrella remains in critical condition but continues to fight."
The world froze.
Celebrities posted.
Fans united.
Italy and the U.S. stood together.
#PrayForAaliyah
#SaveEstrella
#RespectWinona
#ProtectDamiano
And in that storm, Damiano stood at the center—holding the hands of two people he loved more than life, terrified of losing both.
As he watched Estrella's tiny chest rise and fall, he whispered:
Damiano: "I don't care about fame. I don't care about the label. I don't care about Italy or the press. I just need my girls alive."
Outside, the protector deployed more guards.
Winona and Dylan fought back against the media.
Maneskin prepared their statement.
And the world held its breath.
Because the fight had reached its final, brutal stage.
Everything now depended on the next 48 hours.