

On my first day of work, a new colleague keeps hinting that she's the chairman's daughter. Everyone sucks up to her and flatters her when they hear. That's not the worst part—they make me out to be some old man's sugar baby! I angrily call the chairman. "They called you an old man with a sugar baby, Dad!"

Isabelle, the CEO of New York City’s Weston Group, wants to bring her elderly father, Jerry, from her hometown to the city so she can take care of him. Jerry hence sets out for the Big Apple, but neither father nor daughter expected that this journey would become a nightmare. No one knows that Jerry is Isabelle's father, and instead assume from his plain clothes that he’s a beggar or a pervert. Jerry suffers bullying and abuse by Weston Group’s employees and partners, until Isabelle finally arrives......

My seven-year-old son was bitten by a snake. I rushed him to my elder son’s hospital, only for his girlfriend to mistake me for his mistress. She blocked the treatment, slapped and beat me violently, leaving me bruised and bleeding. When my elder son operated on me, his hands trembled and he asked in horror: “Who did this to you, Mom?”

"The day my parents brought home an AI daughter, I lost my place in the family. Maddison Matthews was flawless. Gentle, intelligent, and obedient, she was the perfect daughter. Overnight, I became the problem child. Dad stopped hiding his disappointment. Mom compared me to Maddison in everything I did. Even my brother, Bailey, treated me like an embarrassment. ""What else do you know how to do besides throwing tantrums and fighting for attention?"" The day I finally snapped and shoved Maddison, Mom slapped me so hard my ears rang. ""If you were even half as mature as Maddie, I wouldn’t be so exhausted every single day! Go to the Intelligent Excellence Academy and learn properly how to be an obedient daughter!"" Then she sent me away. I was forced into a three-year exchange program at the Intelligent Excellence Academy, a place designed to train human children alongside advanced AI models. Three years later, my family finally came to bring me home. They called my name again and again, but I never answered. The director smiled calmly beside them. ""Mrs. Matthews,"" he said softly, ""you’ll need to say ‘Power On’. Unit 1314 no longer responds to human names."

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.

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.

My cold, ruthless Mafia godfather guardian tore off his mask the night of my twenty-first birthday. He doesn't want me to call him uncle anymore. He wants me as his caged bird.

Jackson Tiller and Emily Gateley break down the chaos of filming the viral show "Uncle Richard Is My Baby Daddy," sharing behind-the-scenes stories, on-set chemistry, and the wild ride of acting for vertical TV. Raw, funny, and unfiltered—this is where drama meets real talk.

Everyone praises Joseph as the model husband and father, until Sherry returns with her son and daughter, shattering his perfect image. When he relentlessly chases her, she declares: the kids are mine, but I don't want you. When he meets two little copies of himself, even he has to face reality. Want to win Sherry back? He's still got a long way to go!