Elena Ferrante The Days Of Abandonment Dramas & Movies

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My father was one of the first dons to rise out of the Naples mob. My mother was an iron-fisted businesswoman with a reputation that made grown men flinch. When I was ten, somebody had the nerve to hijack one of my father's freight ships. He had the man's arms and legs broken with a crowbar, then stuffed a handful of gold rings down his throat — told him to count his money while he crawled. When I was fifteen, some scheming woman tried to get her claws into my father. My mother hired the filthiest pimps off the docks, shipped her down to a back-alley bar in Marseille, and told her to make her own way. And me — I grew up running the streets of Naples like I owned them. The sons of every other family knew to call me Miss Ferrante and keep their hands to themselves. Then I met him. A rough, quiet man fresh out of the army. For him I put down the knives, traded the silk for plain cotton, and followed him back to that little nothing of a coastal town, Porto Scuro. Today my mother-in-law and my husband went down to the dock warehouses to settle a dispute. They held her face down in a barrel of rotting fish guts. They kicked in three of his ribs. I stared at the salt fish I'd been slicing on the kitchen board, let out a cold laugh, and brought the knife down so hard the oak split in half. Then I dialed my father's private line.

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My husband, Cesare Ferrante, the most feared Don of the Ferrante family, had always hated children. Yet everything changed the moment my stepsister, Bianca Moretti, moved in next door with her six-month-old baby. Suddenly, my husband became obsessed with that child. He personally fed the baby formula, sang lullabies, and carried the baby everywhere he went. Every day, he came home exhausted at dawn, yet his face glowed with joy, as if that baby occupied his entire soul. I became invisible to him. Three days ago, someone forced my car off the road, and I crashed into the median. Blood streamed down my forehead, and my vision swam. I called Cesare 55 times. He did not answer a single call. Instead, he posted a photo of the baby on his social media. [My little angel smiled today!] I had had enough. Tonight at the family banquet, every member of the famiglia was seated around the table. I raised my final toast, then set down my glass. "I want a divorce." They all froze. "Are you insane?" My parents' voices rose in unison. Cesare grabbed my wrist, disbelief written across his face. "Giulia, you want to divorce me just because I was busy taking care of the baby and didn't answer your calls? You're actually jealous of a six-month-old child?" I did not meet his eyes. Instead, I stared at the glaring kiss mark behind his ear. "Since you love that child so much," I said calmly, "I'll make it easy for you. Go be that child's father."

5.4K Views1.9K Favorites43 Full Episodes

My father was one of the first dons to rise out of the Naples mob. My mother was an iron-fisted businesswoman with a reputation that made grown men flinch. When I was ten, somebody had the nerve to hijack one of my father's freight ships. He had the man's arms and legs broken with a crowbar, then stuffed a handful of gold rings down his throat — told him to count his money while he crawled. When I was fifteen, some scheming woman tried to get her claws into my father. My mother hired the filthiest pimps off the docks, shipped her down to a back-alley bar in Marseille, and told her to make her own way. And me — I grew up running the streets of Naples like I owned them. The sons of every other family knew to call me Miss Ferrante and keep their hands to themselves. Then I met him. A rough, quiet man fresh out of the army. For him I put down the knives, traded the silk for plain cotton, and followed him back to that little nothing of a coastal town, Porto Scuro. Today my mother-in-law and my husband went down to the dock warehouses to settle a dispute. They held her face down in a barrel of rotting fish guts. They kicked in three of his ribs. I stared at the salt fish I'd been slicing on the kitchen board, let out a cold laugh, and brought the knife down so hard the oak split in half. Then I dialed my father's private line.

6.9K Views2.5K Favorites54 Full Episodes

I found out I was pregnant at the same time as my mafia husband’s childhood sweetheart Rosa. To protect her baby from being aborted by her parents, my husband claimed her baby as his own. As for mine? He coxed me, saying he will claim only after her baby was born. I confronted him, demanding to know why he would do this to me. His response was cold and unwavering: “Claiming her baby as mine was the only way to protect them both. I won’t let anything happen to her or the child.” In that moment, as I looked at the man I had loved for ten years, I realized my love for him had died. Not long after, my family condemned me, calling me a slut for having a child without a father and pressured me into getting an abortion. Meanwhile, my husband was in another city, with his sweetheart, helping her through her pregnancy. By the time he returned, I was already gone.

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Elena endures seven years of a loveless marriage with Nicholas, who remains obsessed with his first love, Olivia. After their daughter Lily is hurt time and again, Elena draws up an agreement giving Nicholas three final chances. He wastes every last one, forcing Elena to walk away—only for Nicholas to finally realize his true feelings, much too late.

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At twenty, Elena overheard a conversation between her stepbrother and secret lover, Luca Moretti, and his men, learning that his five-year pursuit of her had been nothing but a scheme to take revenge on her mother, Grace. She fled in her car, only to die in a crash—and miraculously wake up five years in the past. Instead of seeking revenge or confrontation, the reborn Elena quietly made arrangements to study abroad, planning to leave Chicago for London within four days. She left a farewell letter beneath Luca's pillow. When Luca discovered she had left, he raced to the airport—but was caught in a devastating crash that left him paralyzed from the neck down. Lying in his hospital bed, he read Elena's letter and finally realized he had been wrong all along: Grace had never destroyed his family; she had always genuinely treated him as her own son. Six years later, Elena had completed her studies in London, married the kind and steady Caspar Ross, and had a daughter, Philippa. Though Luca had recovered enough to move about in a wheelchair, when he came face to face with Elena and her family—witnessing their happiness—he understood with painful clarity that he had lost her forever.

252.0K Views30.6K Favorites84 Full EpisodesAvailable in 10 Languages

To cover for her boyfriend, Nora Stuart admitted to killing someone in a car accident, and she was sentenced to three years in prison. One day, a man found Nora and wanted her to donate her blood to his grandson, Eric Finch. Nora accepted this deal to get out of jail early, but only to find out her boyfriend had been cheating on her with his boss. Feeling heartbroken, Nora agreed to marry Eric Finch.

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"For ten years, Elena loved Jason with everything she had. The day she finally became pregnant, she expected the happy ending she'd always dreamed of. Instead, she caught her husband and his pregnant mistress in their marital bed. His pregnant mistress mocks Elena to her face. When Elena looks to her husband for an explanation, he coldly orders her to leave the room. When Jason ordered Elena to leave the room for his lover... something inside her finally broke. She spent ten years loving him. Now she'll spend the rest of her life making him regret losing her."