Is Serie 7 A La Maison Based On A True Story?

Within 30 days, Niccolò Romano and I registered for divorce 18 times. The first time, Niccolò's adopted sister stole my research results, but he hired a lawyer to fight for her. Afterwards, he held me and coaxed, "If something happens to Lia, no one will dare to hire her in the future. I'm just helping her." The second time, while my plane was in distress, he was traveling around the world with Lia. His tone was helpless: "Lia has depended on me since she was little. I only look after her like a younger sister." The last time, Lia was pregnant with a child no one would claim, and he took responsibility for it. Faced with my accusation, he just sighed, a bit tired: "Lia's career is just starting to take off. If someone blackmails her with the child, her life will be ruined." "You're a woman too. Can't you understand?" This time, I didn't cry or make a scene. Instead, I calmly signed my name on the divorce agreement that he had signed in a fit of pique some time ago. Then I called my professor: "I've thought it over. I'm willing to go with you to Iceland to do research."

I had been in a secret relationship with my mafia boyfriend, Dante Castellano, for seven years. No public contact. No photos together. No proof I had ever stood by his side. He told me, "Once I'm powerful enough that no one dares touch you, I'll make it official." I believed him. The day before our seventh anniversary, I found a ten-carat diamond ring in his suit jacket. I cried with joy, thinking seven years of hiding were finally over. The next morning, I wore my most expensive dress and sprayed on the only perfume he had ever given me. I practiced my smile in the mirror, the one I would give when he proposed. Then, my phone lit up with a breaking news alert. [Breaking News: Seven-Year Love Story Reaches Perfect Ending—Romance Blogger Alessia Romano Accepts Boyfriend's 100th Proposal!] In the photo, the influencer with eight million followers stood on her tiptoes, kissing a man. His hand rested on the back of her neck. On that hand was a scar I would never mistake. It was the scar Dante got when he took a knife for me.

I had just given birth when the country sent me on a secret mission that kept me undercover for seven years. When it finally ended, I came home on leave. I was eager to see my husband and children, whom I had missed every single day. However, the moment my car stopped at the gate, I saw my two children—my most precious treasures—being shoved down the steps by a woman. They tumbled hard, and they were covered in bruises. The next second, three snarling wolfhounds were released from the house, and they pounced on the children with bared teeth. Fury surged through me, and I charged forward. I got the dogs away with a few swift kicks and punches. Amid the animals’ pitiful howls, my ten-year-old son instinctively shielded his sister. His young face was pale with fear. Meanwhile, my eight-year-old daughter snapped out of her daze and trembled as she urged me to leave. “Miss, run! You hurt her dogs, and if Dad finds out, he won’t let you get away with it!” I forced down my anger and gently said, “She set the dogs on you first. Even if your dad were here, he’d protect you just like I did.” I did not expect this to make their eyes instantly fill with tears. Alarmed, I was about to ask what was wrong when a woman’s arrogant voice rang out. “You vagrant! I have a close relationship with Martin Gray, and I’m also the lady of the Gray family! “You and these two brats who dirtied my house aren’t leaving in one piece today!” I froze for a second before I took a deep breath and called my husband. “Martin, who’s this woman proclaiming to be the lady of the Gray family? Where did she come from? You’d better have a good explanation for this. And tell me, when did the house I left for John and Katy get a new owner?”

Marco de Luca is the youngest son of a very powerful family in southern Italy, dedicated to the sale of flats and large luxury houses, or at least that is what they say they do exclusively... Incredibly successful and attractive, he seems to have everything. He is about to marry the beautiful Greek daughter of another influential family and to take over his father's business. But unexpectedly he must go to Barcelona to meet a distant cousin to resolve hidden family matters, which will lead to the birth of an intense passion and the opening of a dark past full of secrets that he never expected to discover.

The Cossini family has a strict rule about marriage—the future don can only marry a woman of equal social standing. But Marco Cossini falls madly in love with me and declares that he won't marry anyone but me. In a fit of anger, his father, Don Sergio, locks him up in the dungeon and uses corporal punishment on him. Even when he emerges covered in blood, he still puts a ring on my finger, saying, "Don't be scared, Helena. You're my entire world." Later on, he inherits the position of Don and organizes an extravagant wedding ceremony for me. After seven years of marriage, I finally get pregnant, but the doctor tells me I need to undergo expensive treatment to keep my baby. I call Marco in a panic, but he doesn't even let me finish what I have to say before replying, "Same rules as always—we'll decide the amount blind-box style. Pick a number from one to nine, and I'll give you the corresponding allowance." "I pick one." Marco has always told me that box number one has the most money. Three seconds later, I get a bank transfer of exactly 9.90 dollars. "It's not my fault. Alessia discovered that you always choose one. You messed up. Choose a different number next time." Alessia Lombardo has taken a bullet for Marco three times before. She's also obsessed with blind boxes. Marco constantly feels indebted to her, so he plays along with her, letting her decide everything in the Cossini family with blind boxes. But of course, he won't be that stingy with me, his own wife. Feeling hopeful still, I try to tell him that I'm pregnant, but the call cuts off. A sharp pain shoots through my abdomen, and my vision goes dark. I lose consciousness. When my eyes open once more, I find that too much time has been wasted. I've lost the baby. In my grief, I wipe my tears away and book a flight abroad that leaves in seven days. I don't love you anymore, Marco.

Seven years into my secret marriage to Leon Ferrante—Don of the Ferrante Family—and he still wouldn't make it public. Before the vows, I was his Consigliere. Every arms deal went through me. After? Just another housewife. Swapped my holster for an apron. Kitchen counter became my war zone. He didn't want kids. Said he had to take care of his autistic little brother. I got it. So I gave it all up—for his Family, for that kid. The Family blew up fast. The kid? Went from blank stares to sharp comebacks. Even started talking. But Leon still kept me in the dark. His mother wouldn't quit. "Give him a healthy heir. He'll settle down." I thought maybe she was right. I clung to him for a few nights. I got pregnant. Came home with the results, ready to tell him— Then I heard his "autistic" brother ask, clear as day: "Papa, are you gonna divorce Anna and marry someone else?"