Why Does 'Tha Doggfather' Focus On Snoop Dogg'S Trials?

After being released from my three-year sentence, Zoe Sanders finally found me in an underground fight club. The moment she saw me, she grabbed me by the collar and punched me across the face, her eyes burning red with fury. "Henry Goldman, who gave you the nerve to disappear like this? "And what the hell have you done to yourself?" I wiped the blood from the corner of my mouth and laughed carelessly. "One punch, one hundred thousand. "If you’re still angry, feel free to keep going. I could use the money for this year’s rent." Her fists trembled uncontrollably, but her voice softened. "Come home with me... apologize to Ronald Green. "He’s always been kind-hearted. He already forgave you for framing him." Her gaze swept over the scars covering my body, something unreadable flickering in her eyes. "Look at yourself. Covered in blood like this... what’s the difference between you and a stray dog digging through garbage?" My body stiffened. Then I turned and walked away. What she did not know was this: In prison, blood and violence were the only ways I learned to survive. "Don’t forget," she shouted after me, "I’m still your fiancée!" My footsteps stopped. How could I forget? Three years ago, on the night of our engagement, Ronald drugged me and sent me to a black-market auction. I was stripped of all dignity and sold like merchandise. That night, I became the laughingstock of the entire city. And the person who signed the papers that sold me… was my fiancée herself.

My husband, Don Lorenzo, ran New York's underworld. And he's the one who put me in prison. All because his childhood flame, Cassandra Viti—the Viti family princess—killed my father. I was the first one on the scene. The Feds caught me standing over the body. He faked the evidence. Made sure I took the fall. I spent three years in hell. His apology? A single sentence and an unlimited black card. "I owe Cassandra three wishes. Once you're out, once I've paid my debt to her, you'll be my Donna again."

My lawyer husband, Evan Henderson, has sued me for the eighth time over the custody of our pet dog. During the trial, Evan finally yields to me by texting me on the phone. "You can name any condition you want as long as you agree to give the dog to Minnie." Evan used to be a fair and just person. After all, he stood by and watched my dad get framed and thrown into prison just to avoid any suspicion of favoritism. To think that he has gone ahead and fabricated up to 26 pieces of evidence just so he can help Minerva Henderson steal the custody of our pet dog… Not only has he fabricated the dog's birth certificate, but he's also forged the purchasing history of the dog. I refuse to let my dog go, which is why I've argued with him about this matter seven times. But what stuns everyone is the fact that I choose not to make a statement. "I'm not going to fight for custody anymore." After that, I send Evan a text. "My only condition is that you reopen my dad's financial crime case for me." Evan heaves a sigh of relief from the plaintiff's podium. But what he doesn't know is that there's a divorce agreement included in the pile of custody-transfer paperwork he signed earlier.

As a journalist, Angie McAlister is used to uncovering many facts. Her name is very famous because she dares to reveal sensitive facts and involves famous names. Death seemed to dance before her eyes because she was so active with her courage to reveal facts. After being fired from her workplace, Angie decides to become a freelance journalist and is not tied to any company. She meets an attractive man at a nightclub and learns that he is connected to a major mafia organization. Maxime Seagrave, a former Wolf Gang member who Angie continues to pursue. After many offers made by Angie, Maxime finally agrees to be interviewed only if Angie gives one thing in return; herself. Mystery after mystery, question after question. Slowly, Angie will find out why Maxime quit the group, and Maxime... he will find out that Angie is not as innocent as he thought.

Jordan Carter has made a career out of defending the kind of clients everyone else is afraid to touch—without ever crossing her own line. So when a sealed, high-dollar retainer lands on her desk tied to Mercer Holdings, she expects a rich man’s mess and a clean paycheck. Instead, she’s driven through gates and cameras to a fortress of “security” men who watch her like prey, and introduced to Maddox Mercer—cold, controlled, and dangerous in a way no suit should be. A body has surfaced on his land: a violent trafficker killed in self-defense… and then buried. The district attorney, Silvia Smith, isn’t just looking for a conviction—she’s building a task force meant to destroy the entire organization. Jordan’s job is to keep the pack out of prison. Maddox’s job is to make sure she and her team doesn’t learn enough to ruin them. But the deeper Jordan digs, the more personal it gets. The dead man’s name is tied to her father’s “wild animal” case—the call that ended his life and left her with questions no one would answer. Forced to live on Mercer land “for security,” Jordan finds missing footage, rehearsed stories, and an internal traitor with a grudge sharp enough to burn the pack down from the inside. Maddox can be her greatest threat… or her only ally, if she can survive the pull between what she feels and what she knows. Because if Jordan exposes the truth, she can win the case—and destroy him. If she protects him, she’ll become complicit in a secret that was never meant to survive daylight.

Married to Don Victor for three years, I thought I could finally forget the pain and betrayal of my ex-husband, Dominic. This cold, ruthless man ruled the East Coast underworld. But he handed me the world on a silver platter, healing my broken pieces. Until late one night. Victor's underboss called, frantic, begging me to rush to Manhattan's top private hospital. Victor and Dominic were in a standoff outside the maternity ward. Guns drawn, surrounded by their elite hitmen. They were inches away from sparking an all-out mob war. And standing between them was my ex-best friend, Chloe. She was visibly pregnant. The Commission's mediator slid a truce across the table. His expression was painfully awkward. "The security tapes are clear. The two Dons nearly blew up the entire floor just to decide who gets to stay in her room tonight." Numbly, I signed the papers as the Donna of the Costello family. Prenatal vitamins bought by Victor already piled high in the room. Meanwhile, his and Dominic's men were still arguing over the schedule—how the two Mafia Dons would split their week to keep Chloe company, three days each. When I walked up to the bed, the two lethal men who were just at each other's throats now stood guarding her on both sides. Victor shielded her belly. The same lips that used to kiss every inch of my body now spit out bone-chilling words: "I forced her. If you have a problem, take it up with me." My ex-husband, Dominic, glared at me viciously. "Keep your mad dog of a husband in check. Tell him to stop harassing my woman!" I slowly shook my head. Watching this farce, silent tears slid down my cheeks. A mobster's love... in the end, it's just a cheap lie. Victor, I don't want you anymore either.