How Accurate Is 'Sickened' To Real Events?

"That b*tch messed with the wrong wife!" An eye for an eye. A tooth for a tooth. Hell hath no fury than... A Woman Scorned!

A string of sexual assault cases sweeps through Fenborough, and all the evidence points toward me. In just a single night, I've become the prime suspect and target of everyone's anger. The moment I get home, my wife, Natalie Parker, glares at me with hatred and disgust. "A monster like you doesn't deserve to be called a human!" As she rages at me, she dumps a bottle of sulfuric acid on my crotch. The agonizing pain makes me collapse onto the floor, unable to move. The next day, she brings another man to the house—Harvey Green. He looks down at me and says, "So you're nothing but a scumbag. No wonder she detests you so much." Natalie also eyes me coldly, her words cutting as she says, "Why would I keep a tainted piece of trash like you around? Just the sight of you disgusts me." I refuse to believe that I would ever commit such a crime, so I secretly arrange for a DNA test—but the results prove that my DNA is a match with the culprit's. My blood runs cold. A wave of despair washes over me. Once Natalie sees the results, she brings the victims to the house. They charge at me, smashing glass bottles against my head and breaking my legs with bats. When my parents rush over and see this, they faint on the spot. I end up dying on the operating table. Suddenly, my eyes open again. I've been reborn. I've returned to the day the crimes took place.

A NOVEL ON STOCKHOLM SYNDROME BOOK 1 OF A THREE BOOK SERIES *TRIGGER WARNING* This book contains scenes that some readers may find disturbing… and also slightly annoying. “Miss. Iris, do you believe she has a point?” she asked and returned to her seat once again. “I don’t think so, her father and uncle deserve to go to jail.” My answer extracted a smile from her like she was proud of my response. “My name is Christine; I am a renowned medico-legal psychotherapist. Been in the business for over twenty years and that is what a case of Stockholm syndrome looks like. In my years of experience, we see situations similar to this but its our job to help the victims realize” “Wow…” I started, really amazed at what she had said and what her work entails. I was only concerned why they locked me in a room with a psychotherapist “it must be difficult at times” I added. “yeah, its difficult every time” she laughed “but today isn’t about me, I have a question for you.” There was a brief pause in between before she carried on “Does Hunter deserve to go to jail?”

My adopted sister, Rita Lawson, and I get ambushed by a rival family at the same time. But she pushes me away at the most critical juncture, leading to me getting kidnapped. After my kidnappers feed me poison, they leave me to rot in the wild. When I finally get home, I find out that Rita pretends to be poisoned, so my dad has already given her the only antidote. With tears streaking down her cheeks, Rita tells my parents that she's chosen to ingest poison for me, and yet I abandoned her and fled on my own. Of course, everyone believes her. My parents tell me, "Rita got poisoned just to protect you. You must transfer your businesses to her." My husband, Enrico Fulci, says to me, "Someone needs to take care of Rita. Let's get a divorce, Elisa." Even my own daughter, Ivana Fulci, asks me, "Mamma, when are you going to be as gentle and understanding as Zia Rita?" Faced with everyone's accusations, I drink a serum that I've bought from the black market in order to suppress the poison in my system. It can allow me to live like a regular person. But in return, the poison within me will erupt three days later, causing my instant death. Using the three days I have left, I hand my businesses, my husband, and my daughter over to Rita. Everyone is pleased, thinking that I've finally learned my place. But what they don't know is that Death will come for me after 72 hours.

My daughter was violated and killed, yet her death was ruled a suicide. After seven failed appeals, I kidnapped the chief prosecutor’s daughter. I tied the chief prosecutor’s daughter to an autopsy table and publicly addressed the prosecutor’s office in a live stream. “I performed the autopsy myself. My daughter didn’t kill herself. She was murdered. “I’ll give you seven chances. Release the actual evidence and name the murderer publicly. Each time a chance runs out, I’ll remove one of her body parts.” The chief prosecutor and his wife knelt on the floor. They begged me desperately to spare their daughter. “The evidence proves your daughter took her own life. Stop this madness now and let my daughter go. She’s innocent.” Viewers in the live stream called me insane. They said I had lost my mind with grief and was taking it out on an innocent person. I ignored their contempt. With a sneer, I picked up a scalpel and pressed it against the judge’s daughter’s abdomen. “The clock is ticking. Hurry up and reveal the true murderer now.” I knew perfectly well the real murderer was watching the stream at that very moment.

I fell in love with the nanny's son. After boldly pursuing him, he reluctantly agreed to marry me. But I never expected his young lover to storm into my home like a madwoman, prying my mouth open to pour scalding water down my throat, pressing me into a sink full of dirty water, and finally pushing me down the stairs. My husband stood by my hospital bed, looking at my broken body with disdain. "Irene, every moment with you makes me sick," he spat, barely able to hide his impatience for my death. Yet, when I finally died, he sobbed uncontrollably in public, playing the role of the devoted, heartbroken husband. "Irene, don't leave me! You have no idea how much I wanted to die with you!" At that, I spoke softly from behind him. "Is that so?"