Rome glittered that night.
Cameras flashed. Voices called names. Music throbbed through marble halls as if nothing in the world had ever broken.
And that was exactly how Estrella walked in.
Head high. Black dress. Thomas at her side.
It was her first real public appearance with him—not as a rumor, not as whispers behind screens, but openly. His hand hovered close to hers. Not touching. Not yet. Close enough to say everything.
Social media exploded within minutes.
They look inseparable.
Is this real?
Damiano's daughter??
Estrella smiled when cameras turned toward her, but inside her chest everything shook. She felt Thomas lean closer, his voice low.
"You okay?"
She nodded, even if she wasn't sure it was true.
Across the room, Damiano froze.
He hadn't expected to see them like this. Together. Comfortable. Intimate in a way that didn't need explanations.
He watched Thomas's hand finally rest at the small of Estrella's back—not possessive, not aggressive, but familiar.
Too familiar.
Damiano felt the air leave his lungs.
That was when he knew.
This wasn't speculation anymore.
This wasn't a misunderstanding.
Something had crossed a line.
And it hadn't just crossed it—it had stayed there.
He didn't confront them. Not here. Not now. He turned away before Estrella could see his face, before anger mixed with something worse: fear.
Later that night, away from the cameras, away from the noise, Aaliyah sat alone on the terrace of their home, the city lights stretched beneath her like a second sky.
She didn't hear Damiano come in.
She felt him.
"You saw them," she said quietly, not turning around.
"Yes."
The word sounded heavier than it should have.
Damiano sat beside her, elbows on his knees, hands clasped like he was holding himself together.
"It's not just rumors," he continued. "It's real. Whatever's happening… it's already happened."
Aaliyah closed her eyes.
She didn't ask what he saw.
She already knew.
Something about the silence between them confirmed it.
"Did Estrella look… happy?" she asked.
Damiano hesitated.
"Yes," he said finally. "And that's what scares me."
Aaliyah swallowed hard. The city below them felt too loud, too exposed.
"She's grown," Aaliyah whispered. "But that doesn't mean she's ready."
Damiano nodded, jaw tight.
"And Thomas should know better."
The name sat between them like a loaded weapon.
Inside the house, Estrella stood by her bedroom window, phone buzzing endlessly on the bed behind her. She didn't check it.
She only stared out at Rome, replaying the way Damiano's eyes had found her across the room before he turned away.
She knew.
He had seen.
And nothing would ever be the same again.
Somewhere in the city, headlines were already being drafted.
And by morning, the truth—whatever version the world decided to believe—would no longer belong to them.