Rome woke up louder than usual.
Because that morning, every Italian tabloid, gossip page, and music magazine had the same headline:
"AALIYAH IS PREGNANT AGAIN — AND HIDING IT IN ROME."
Her face was everywhere.
Paparazzi outside the hotel.
Hundreds of comments.
Millions of eyes watching.
Aaliyah stared at her phone, the silence in the room turning heavier by the second.
She didn't cry. She didn't scream.
She just… froze.
Damiano entered the room with two coffees, and stopped when he saw her expression.
—They know, —Aaliyah whispered.
—Everyone knows…
He set the cups down, jaw tightening.
—We'll fix this. Let me handle it.
But before she could respond, his own phone vibrated.
A number he recognized.
A number he hated.
A powerful Italian media outlet.
The message was short:
"We'll pay for an exclusive interview.
Your past. Your secrets. Your relationships.
You talk, we protect your family."
Damiano felt his stomach twist.
It wasn't an offer.
It was a threat dressed as money.
He turned the phone off immediately, but Aaliyah had already noticed.
—Who was that? —she asked, her eyes narrowing.
—Nothing important.
But she knew that tone.
She knew he was hiding something again.
And this time, she didn't let it pass.
—Damiano, don't start. Not again. Not with a baby on the way. Not when every worst moment of our lives is trending online.
He clenched his fists.
—Then trust me when I say it's under control.
—But it's not! —she snapped.
Her voice cracked.
—We're losing control of everything. The press, the fans, Ethan—
Damiano's expression changed instantly.
—What about Ethan?
Aaliyah hesitated.
And fate, cruel as always, chose that exact moment for the door to open.
Ethan stood there.
Back in Rome.
Unannounced.
Without warning.
Damiano turned slowly, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper.
—Why are you here?
Ethan's eyes flicked to Aaliyah's stomach, then back to Damiano.
—I needed to talk to her.
Damiano stepped forward.
—You stay the hell away from her.
Aaliyah pushed between them.
—Stop! I don't want more fighting! I'm pregnant, I'm exhausted, and I can't deal with this again!
But Damiano and Ethan were locked in a silent war.
The room felt like it could explode.
And right in the middle of that tension…
someone else cracked.
Estrella
She had been sitting on the stairs, listening without meaning to.
Listening to her parents fall apart again.
Listening to Ethan's voice return.
Listening to secrets she didn't fully understand.
But one secret had found her earlier that day.
A comment.
An article.
A rumor she wasn't supposed to see:
"Aaliyah almost died giving birth to Estrella. Doctors called it a miracle."
The words kept echoing in her head.
Her chest tightened.
Her breathing turned shallow.
And suddenly the walls felt too close, the noise too loud.
Estrella grabbed the railing, but her vision blurred.
—Mom…? —she called out weakly.
Aaliyah spun around just in time to see her daughter collapse to her knees, shaking.
—Estrella!
Damiano rushed to her, but she pushed his hands away, overwhelmed, trembling, unable to breathe.
Thomas, who had just entered the hall, froze when he saw her.
—Estrella? Hey—hey, look at me.
Her eyes locked on his, panicked and scared.
Thomas dropped down beside her immediately, hands steady, voice soft.
—You're okay. I'm right here. Just breathe with me. In… and out… focus on me, okay?
Damiano moved closer, torn between fear and helplessness.
—Thomas… stay with her. Please.
For the first time since everything started, Damiano let someone else take over.
Aaliyah knelt beside them, rubbing Estrella's back, tears sliding down her cheeks.
Ethan stepped back, guilt hitting him hard.
Thomas held Estrella's trembling hands, guiding her breathing as her panic slowly eased.
The house was quiet.
Too quiet.
And in that silence, everyone realized:
this wasn't just drama anymore.
This family was falling apart piece by piece.
And the breaking had just begun.