What Are The Key Events In Milton Berle: An Autobiography?

The second day after I was transferred back to Los Angeles, I ran into someone I used to know on a street corner. She stepped right in front of me, eyes going wide. “Mia? Mia Rossi? Why would you come back now? Dante's marrying Camille at the cathedral in a week.” Dante was my first love, and also the youngest heir to a mafia dynasty on this side of the Atlantic. He'd made me a promise once: that he'd make the entire Moretti family kneel and welcome me in. We had a deal: the day he officially took over as Don would be the day he married me. But his family had other plans. They arranged a match for him: Camille, a princess from one of Sicily's five great families. Pure bloodline, the genuine article. At first, Dante swore up and down she meant nothing to him. Less than nothing. Then I started noticing how he looked at her. Softer every time. Like he was falling. One night, riding home after a shift at the bar, Camille's car came out of nowhere and took me down. The gas tank caught, and half the block reeked of burning rubber and scorched metal. I was pinned under the wreckage, blood seeping from the back of my skull down my neck, warm at first, then cold. Dante was the first one there. He beat the ambulance. The first thing he did was walk past me. He crouched down, lifted Camille out of the passenger seat, and didn't look at me once, just dropped a few words over his shoulder: “I already called an ambulance. Hang tight. Camille's had too much to drink. I need to get her home.” That was the moment I was done with him. Completely, finally done. While he was gone, I discharged myself. I bought the farthest plane ticket I could find that same night and left without looking back. Five years passed. “Mia, you have no idea.” The woman grabbed my wrist, dropping her voice. “Dante spent years turning half of Europe upside down looking for you. You came back at the right time. He still keeps a seat for you every month on his birthday. Camille's too proud for a lot of things,

On the eve of their wedding, Miriam accidentally discovered that her boyfriend of three years had cheated on her with his cousin, so she set fire to their home, turned around and married her boyfriend's brother. She originally thought her husband was a down-and-out son who was not popular in the family, but he turned out to be a billionaire with a fortune of billions, who helped Miriam deal with the people who used to bully her, and even spoiled Miriam to the sky. Just ...... originally said that they were going to play along, but as a result the man's eyes looked at Miriam more and more out of place, scaring her back, "Mr Kent, I think the original intention of this marriage of ours has gone off the rails, and I ask that we get back on the right track!" The man handsomely unbuttoned his shirt and stripped Miriam naked. "Baby, stop talking in your sleep and come over to your husband's side."

When my daughter, Lily Gage, has a parent-teacher meeting going on, she requests that my wife, Melody Hutton, and I attend it. Yet, Melody doesn't inform me about the meeting. Instead, she takes her secretary, Benjamin Carter, to the meeting. After the meeting, Melody explains that she doesn't have the heart to interrupt me, seeing as I'm too busy with work. In order to maintain the peace of this family, I decide to endure Melody's shenanigans just this once. But one day, Lily has gotten into a fight with another student at school. By the time I arrive, I witness Benjamin dealing with the situation with Lily in his arms. After asking Lily's teacher for more information, I find out that Lily has actually changed an emergency contact. Apparently, she has filled in Benjamin's contact information in the father's column. Also, Melody has given her permission for Lily to make the change. At that moment, I've lost all interest in staying in this family. That night, I bring up divorce in front of Melody. She just smiles mockingly at me. "So, you want to get divorced just because Benjamin's an emergency contact now?" "That's right."

The three heirs of the Whitman family all claimed to love me. But their way of loving me was to keep me hidden. Alexander said New York's financial reporters were too aggressive and that making our relationship public would only put me in the middle of a media frenzy. Nicholas said people in the investment world were vicious gossips and he was afraid I'd become a target, so he never brought me to his partners' gatherings, private clubs, or holiday receptions. Leon said his music career wasn't established yet. Once he had a stage that was truly his own, he would acknowledge me in front of the whole world. I waited four years. This changed when Lillian Grant walked into their lives. Alexander walked her down the red carpet at the Manhattan Art Foundation gala. The next day, every entertainment outlet ran the same headline: "Eldest Whitman Heir Appears to Go Public with New Romance." Nicholas brought her to an investor reception, where his partners called her "the future Mrs. Whitman" right to my face. Leon was the most direct. He played a song at a twenty-thousand-person concert and told the livestream camera, "For the most important person in my life." The jumbotron cut to Lillian's seat. The day after the livestream. Alexander set a folder on the coffee table. "You're twenty-five now. We think it's time you had a life of your own." Nicholas continued, "This man comes from an ordinary background, but he has a stable job. He's been divorced once and has no children. " Leon slid the photo in front of me, smiling with the same easy warmth as always. "We've already met him for you. He's more than a good match." I didn't argue. I just picked up my phone and called the Whitman family attorney. What they didn't know was that the family trust Grandfather had established before his death made one thing perfectly clear. Whoever I chose would receive that twenty-seven percent block of voting shares and become the true power behind the Whitman family.

Mercy had loved Bradley Cornell for a long time. Bradley came from a powerful and wealthy family, and he was supposed to marry another woman he loved. On the wedding day, that woman ran away with another man, leaving Bradley embarrassed in front of everyone. To stop the scandal from spreading, Mercy stepped forward and agreed to marry Bradley. She had admired him quietly for years, so even though the marriage started suddenly, she hoped that if she stayed by his side and treated him well, he might slowly come to love her. But the marriage never became warm. Bradley treated Mercy politely but without affection. He spent most of his time working and rarely came home early. When he did come home, he acted distant. Mercy felt more like a stranger living in his house than his wife. Still, Mercy stayed loyal. She waited for him every night and tried to take care of everything for him. She believed that one day he would notice her efforts.

After reuniting with my birth family, my wealthy biological father tossed me a black card and laid down one rule: I could spend as much as I wanted, but I was never to call him Dad—that title belonged only to his adoptive daughter. Clutching the black card, I cautiously bought myself a two-dollar-fifty ice cream cone. Just as I was happily licking the sweet ice cream, the adoptive daughter dropped to her knees before me. "Alice, are you mocking me because I can't even afford something that costs two-fifty in the future?" My brother immediately slapped me twice. "You have money now, but you can't split love. Natalie is my one and only sister!" Then my father splashed boiling water onto my face. "No disgraceful wretch deserves to be a Gervais." To punish me, they sent me off to Rimala, forced to work as a child laborer in the mines. Ten years later, I walked into a grand banquet hall with an ice cream in hand and came face-to-face with my brother, Ansel Gervais, dressed in a hand-tailored suit. "All these years and you're still a disgrace," he sneered, but I couldn't be bothered to argue. "Let go. My dad's waiting for me—and if I'm any later, the ice cream's going to melt." He looked down at me with contempt. "Dad? Who gave you permission to call him that? Natalie will forever be the only Gervais girl—no one can take that away from her!" I rolled my eyes. Who said I was talking about that cheap excuse for a father? I was talking about my adoptive father—the oil tycoon with an incurable sweet tooth. I was in a hurry to let him taste some ice cream.