Took Turns Crossword Clue

I was only ten years old when Timoteo Panno found me on the streets of Sirithi. He's the Don of the Panno family, the strongest mafia family in the country. He's also the one who taught me how to protect myself. When I turn 18 years old, I become his lover as well as the weapon he's most proud of. Timoteo isn't interested in other women. I'm the only one staying by his side for many years. We've been with each other for four years. Everyone thinks I'll eventually become the Madre of the Panno family. That is, until Nadia Bellucci accidentally kills her fiance and desperately needs a clean identity to wash herself of all suspicions. As she clutches her chest that houses her heart, which is now weakened from the time she has saved Timoteo's life, she whines coquettishly, "Timoteo, I don't want to go to prison…" With a smile on his face, Timoteo doesn't hesitate to push me out as the scapegoat to take the blame for Nadia. "You've always been a pawn who gets abandoned all the time, so you might as well do it one more time."

"Let's get married!" ... Aurora Devane has been treated like a slave by her half-sister and her stepmother and her dad has always been a bystander to the taunts. After being framed for pushing her sister down the stairs, Aurora is thrown out of the house. However, in a turn of events, she meets Daniel Froster, the richest man in the country, who is known to be cold and ruthless, and they both get married for their gain. What wasn't in the contract was falling in love and encountering secrets of the past that threatened to ruin the future. Excerpt: “Never leave me, Aurora.” He whispered, his hot breath tingling her neck. She could hear the vulnerability and pain in his voice. The pain he has always hidden. “I’ll never leave you. She promised. “You are mine. Mine.” The words sent a shiver down her spine. His.

"The Rossi family doesn't need a Don. We just need a Donna." As the only heiress of the Rossi family, this was the law that I had set when I received the Browning pistol—a pistol that resembles the ultimate authority in the Rossi family—from my Papa when he was on his deathbed. But three years ago, the police relentlessly investigated the money laundering business that my fiance, Lorenzo Moretti, was in charge of. If that business were to get exposed, the Rossi family's hundred-year-old legacy would be ruined. In order to protect my family's legacy and to allow Lorenzo to continue legalizing my family's businesses, I decided to become the scapegoat for all the crimes. On the rainy night of my arrest, I personally handed the pistol over to Lorenzo. "Protect my family for me before my return." This gave Lorenzo legitimate authority to run my family. He used the pistol to purge my subordinates and take over the family business. He even broke my law by announcing to the public that he'd become the next Don soon. An invitation with golden borders is soon leaked from the family's inner circle. Lorenzo's and another woman's names are printed on the cover. During a visit, my private lawyer says mockingly, "If you don't get out of prison now, the Rossi family might take on another man's last name for real." I just sneer in response. After that, I get bailed out of jail in advance and return home to celebrate Lorenzo's "funeral". But no matter how many times I scan my iris at the biometric scanner in the estate, the result always comes out wrong. A young woman, who's toying with the pistol, opens the door at that moment. The contempt and disdain in her eyes are plain to see. "Where the hell did a crazy woman like you come from? You came to the wrong place. This is my private turf, you know."

The night before our wedding, my fiancée let her so-called "best friend" butcher the gown my late mother had sewn, chopping it into a revealing mini dress. I rushed over with the ruined dress in my arms, ready to demand answers: only to catch their voices through the door: "Imagine him expecting me to wear something a dead woman stitched. What a curse!" Through the narrow gap, I saw my distant, frigid fiancée flushed with color, straddling his lap. "What we did at the bridal shop wasn't enough," she murmured. "Tomorrow, walking down the aisle in this tiny dress you made me, it'll be even more exhilarating." Their lips met. My hand froze against the door, and inside, something broke with a soundless crack. If she longed for thrills, I would grant her some.

One day- I can say precisely when I know the date. I will talk to her with no fear... Maybe we will walk while holding hands, seeing eachother and smile. These are my thoughts so far... As I roll around my bed I thought maybe tomorrow I should just confess. What if I will not get rejected? So yes! I have liked this girl for quite a while now, it's going to be 2 years. She is elder than me and I guess it's the time to make everything clear. "That's when he took my breath away! I couldn't help but stare in his dark black eyes~"

My parents used the compensation money from my sister's car accident to buy a four-room house, but they only let me stay in the bathroom. My twin brothers, who were not even a year old, each had their own room. When the twins grew up, they got into a car accident. One of them needed a corneal transplant, the other needed a heart. My parents begged me to donate and save them. When I tried to escape, they betrayed me. When I opened my eyes again, I found myself back to the time just after my sister's death. I sought justice for my sister and myself, and made my parents pay for what they had done.

Five years after I died, Delia—my wife, a doctor—tried to dump her first love's new mess on me again. She stormed into my old place, waving some fake agreement with my name on it, but all she found was dust. Panicking, she ran downstairs and cornered the shop owner. "William?" he said. "He's been dead five years. Heard the family of that malpractice case found him. Stabbed him up bad." Delia laughed it off, like the guy was making it up. "So what if he got suspended? He's still sulking over that?" She rolled her eyes. "Tell him this—he's got three days. If he doesn't show, I'm cutting off his sister's cancer treatment." She muttered something ugly, slammed the door, and left. The shop owner just watched her go, shaking his head. "There's no sister left," he said quietly. "She died years ago... couldn't pay for treatment."

Sign the divorce papers, Desmond. I had been holding back because of my child but your mistress made me lose him. Now I'd make you both regret ever messing with me! Leila had always suffered one sided love from her husband Desmond but she keeps holding onto hope that he'd change but he doesn't desist breaking her heart. He cheated on her with his childhood bestfriend and yet rubs it in her face. Yet, Leila thinks of a second chance but after losing her pregnancy to the chaos of her loveless marriage, Leila takes up a shrewd frame, refusing to continue being the dejected wife she used to be. What happens when someone more powerful offers a deal? What happens when Desmond comes begging back? Will Leila be able to fight her insecurities or lose one more time?

June Williams had given up everything—her family, her inheritance, her dreams—to build a life with the man she loved. But in the blink of an eye, Larry, the husband she had sacrificed so much for, shattered her world. Cast aside for another woman and left broken in the street, June suffered a devastating loss that stole not just her future, but the child she had carried. Now, consumed by grief and burning with a vengeance that threatens to consume her, June vows to take back everything Larry stole from her. His wealth, his reputation, his empire she will make him suffer, just as he made her. And when he finally kneels before her, begging for mercy, she’ll remind him of the moment he told her she was nothing.

Just for brushing against the hem of Eva Lawson, the heiress’s custom couture gown, Lucy Quinn's mother had her limbs broken, then thrown into the sea to die. The day Lucy dragged the arrogant heiress to court she thought that justice might finally be served. Eva was declared not guilty. Why? Because the defense attorney representing her was none other than Wyatt Grant, founder of the most untouchable law firm in River City, and Lucy Quinn’s husband. When the trial ended, the elegant and aloof man stepped down from the defense table and placed an apology letter in front of Lucy. "Lulu, sign it. You don’t want to be sued for defamation and end up in prison, do you?" His tone was calm and coaxing, but behind the lenses of his gold-rimmed glasses, his gaze was cold as ice. Lucy, tears stubbornly clinging to her eyes, looked up at him and said with a trembling voice, "Why, Wyatt, Why?"