무료 숏드라마 검색 | 다음 작품을 찾아보세요 - Dramafinds

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 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.

Emy, une pâtissière douce mais désespérée, renonce à sa liberté pour sauver son frère imprudent et devient la propriété de Simon, un dangereux mafieux au charme envoûtant. Mais Mia, sa fiancée venimeuse, refuse de tolérer leur rapprochement. Lié par un engagement mafieux dont la rupture pourrait lui coûter la vie, Simon est pris au piège des manipulations de Mia, prête à tout pour anéantir Emy. Dans cet univers impitoyable de secrets et de trahisons, le cœur glacé de Simon commence à fondre. Mais quand Emy fait le sacrifice ultime pour le protéger, les étincelles s’embrasent, les balles pleuvent... et l’amour pourrait bien devenir le jeu le plus dangereux de tous.

After Carly's death, Julie marries her sister's husband, Maxwell, to honor a promise and care for her children. Believed to be responsible for Carly's death, Julie sacrifices her dream of becoming a designer while hiding a truth that could change everything.

A welder accidentally builds a god-tier mech as a gift. Testing it, Anna blasts into space, triggering a global defense panic and a near-nuclear strike! The Titan safely returns, defying all known physics. Anna is swiftly drafted, but who is this mysterious welder, and what terrifying weapon will he forge next?

Bodyguard Noah has served mafia heir Luca Falcone for 7 years, bound by secret love. Heiress Cecilia frames Noah; Luca, blinded by pride, abandons him. Noah fakes death, reborn as FBI martyr’s son Ethan Walker. Luca pursues him obsessively after learning the truth. At a port raid, Luca shields Ethan from a bullet, softening his heart and sparking hope.

Deux héritiers de familles mafieuses rivales tombent amoureux sous de fausses identités. Une guerre de gangs laisse Alyssa blessée et amnésique. Dylan se fait passer pour son fiancé, les entraînant entre amour, trahison et secrets enfouis...

For six years, my husband refused to let our son call him Dad. This time, he missed our son's birthday again because of his secretary. So I pulled out the divorce papers and left with our son for good. But the man who had always been calm and controlled finally lost it. He searched everywhere, desperate to find us. This time, neither my son nor I would look back.

In the backseat of a ten-million-dollar custom Rolls-Royce, there are messy handprints of a strange man. What is weirder, the trunk is exactly 200 pounds heavier.To find out what sick game was played in his luxury car, new billionaire Marcus decides to use forensic tools and spy skills to start a deadly hunt...