

Single mother Eleanor returns to L.A. with her twins, desperate to fund her daughter's medical care. She's blindsided by a reunion with her first love, Theodore, now a billionaire. Broke and burdened, Eleanor faces a cruel choice: reveal her past lie for her daughter's treatment, or keep the truth hidden and risk everything.

A ruthless mafia godmother plans to retire at her daughter’s wedding, until the bride is kidnapped and drugged on her wedding night. She storms back into the underworld, vowing revenge, only to uncover a deeper conspiracy and be murdered by a traitor. But is Mama really dead?

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.

The richest woman in the world, Sarah, returns to the US to attend the wedding ceremony of her only son, Teddy But she‘s mistaken by Teddy's fiancée Lucinda as Teddy’s mistress, so Lucinda brutalizes Sarah, insults her, and takes indecent photos of her. Until Teddy arrives and furiously yells:Sarah is my mom!

After surviving hell on earth for fifteen years, Claire Jordan returns home for revenge, only to find her father, Tyler, was beaten and cast out by his own mother, and her mother was forced into bearing Tyler's cousin's son. With no clear target for her rage, she must uncover the real villain and protect the very parents she once wanted to destroy.

After the devastating earthquake, Susan Lewis lost her left arm while shielding her children. Her third son, Ash, went missing, and her eldest son and second daughter promised to honor and care for her. However, over twenty years later, they broke their word and tried to force Susan out of their lives. At this moment, Ash, now the CEO of the Stone Group, unexpectedly reunited with his mother, who had been cast aside.

On a dark and stormy night, Mia found her mother killed in the study. Jack, her father, handed her over to the police as a suspect without giving her a chance to explain. With the help of her brother Daniel, Mia was bailed out of jail and hired a private detective, Edward, to investigate her mother's death. As the investigation progressed, Mia discovered a huge conspiracy behind her mother's death, and even her own father and Edward were involved......

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.

When the CEO comes across a child collecting bottles who bears a striking resemblance to him, he sweeps the child into his arms and asks, "Who is your mother?"