Is 'Blood On My Hands' Book Based On A True Story?

I was the hospital's top surgeon. After three successful surgeries, Medical Affairs decided to reprimand me in front of the whole hospital and canceled my bonus for the month. I argued with the head of Medical Affairs. "I've been working for this place for ten years, and I've always been the first to do everything! I went through five surgeries nonstop last year and had to go through one myself for exhaustion! What did I do to deserve this?" Yes, I was the top surgeon, but the bills were stressing me out, too. My husband had just lost his job, and I had to pay for the car, the mortgage, and our kid's extracurriculars. The burden I had to shoulder wasn't an easy one. So, I was counting on that bonus to get my kid into a basketball club, and now it had been taken away from me. This couldn't be happening! I couldn't believe that they were blaming me for a successful surgery! I was high up in the hierarchy here, so the department head didn't start a fallout right away. Instead, he tried to calm me down. "You drank two bags of IV during the late-night surgery and charged the patients for it. Their family's complaining about unfair fees, and it went viral. We had no choice!" That reminded me. That surgery was a complex one, and it wasn't even supposed to be assigned to me. After all, I'd been working around the operating table for 36 hours prior to that. However, it was the deputy director who came to me and insisted that I take over. I had no choice but to go ahead.

My husband, Don Damiano Caruso's adopted sister, Caterina Caruso, has gone missing when she's three months pregnant. The security footage shows that I'm the last person she's met before her disappearance. The family elders request me to provide them with clues of Caterina's whereabouts. Damiano's mother, Teresa Bellandi, even gets down on her knees to plead with me to help find the missing Caterina. Still, my only answer is silence. I initially thought that Damiano would get a divorce from me out of disappointment. But he still continues to love and dote on me, as though nothing has happened. When I first get pregnant, the R&D team that Damiano has invested an astronomical amount of money into has finally invented a device that can extract memories from human brains. Damiano lures me to the council hall of the Caruso family. There, he extracts my memories in front of the entire family. I keep begging him to change his mind by explaining that this device will hurt our unborn child. But Damiano merely replies icily, "Bianca, the medical team has already conducted a check-up on you. You're in top health this whole time. I can't believe you're capable of lying about your pregnancy just to hide the truth! "I will uncover the truth no matter what!" But once everyone digs up the truth from my memories, Damiano and the entire Caruso family go insane.

I bought my daughter Aria an island when her wolf spirit awakened. My mate, Alpha Kael, was supposed to come with me. We were going to hold our daughter’s coming-of-age ceremony on her new island. But he never showed. And he took half the Pack’s guards with him. I had no choice. I took Aria to the island myself. Just as we were about to land, we were attacked by rogues. A silver bullet tore through my daughter. She collapsed in my arms, screaming in pain. I screamed for Kael through our mind link. I called his phone. Nothing. My daughter died. I collapsed into Kael's arms when he finally showed up, sobbing. His eyes were red. "A Pack emergency held me up… I'm so sorry…" I thought he was grieving with me. Until I found his first love, Isabella, curled up in his arms. "You're so clever, Kael," she purred. "Since you never made Selena the official Luna, she had no authority over the guards. She couldn't protect that powerful daughter of hers." Kael kissed her forehead. He soothed her. "Aria's powerful wolf will cure the sickness in your son Leo's spirit. Her death was worth it. And this island… now that Aria's gone, it's the perfect recovery gift for Leo." My wolf howled in grief. My legs gave out. Tears streamed down my face. It was all a plan. He’d planned it all for his first love. I turned my back on him. I severed our mate bond. But then? He dropped to his knees, begging me to forgive him. Fine. I'll forgive him when he brings my poor Aria back. Can he do that?

Recently, whenever I get physically intimate with my wife, Alara Golding, I can never get it up no matter how hard I try. Alara recommends me to get a massage at a men's wellness center in order to regain my ability to do so. Unexpectedly, when I visit the wellness center, I find out that my cousin-in-law, Hannah Rivers, is actually working as a masseuse there. What I don't expect even more is that the way she massages me is seemingly going down the erotic route…

During a critical heart transplant, my doctor husband insisted his intern assist despite her garish nail art compromising the sterile field. When I called her out, he abandoned the patient mid-surgery to comfort her. I begged him to return, but he snapped, "Giselle is upset. Can't you wait? This is nothing compared to her feelings." 40 minutes later, the patient bled out and died. Later, they discovered that he was our highly respected mayor and placed the blame on me. "If it weren't for you causing a scene and kicking us out of the operating room, the mayor wouldn't have bled to death. This is all your fault!" Defenseless, I was sentenced to life in prison, tortured, and died in agony. My husband and his intern walked down the aisle, enjoying their happy life. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of that fateful surgery.

After two years abroad in seclusion as I recovered, I received a selfie from my daughter, Lila Ashford. She was sitting on a bike, dressed in a work uniform. "Mom, you’ll be home soon, right? I miss you so much." My heart softened as I thought about how my girl had grown up. She understood that she needed to start from the bottom and work her way up. I was about to praise her when I noticed her skin seemed tanner, and her fitted shirt was the same one I’d bought her three years ago. It was frayed and worn thin, yet she still hadn’t thrown it away. As a child of the wealthiest family, Lila shouldn’t have to live like this, not even for "life experience". I zoomed in on the picture again. Her shoes were falling apart, the front gaping wide open. The more I looked, the more uneasy I became. The next second, I stumbled across Serena Ashford, my adopted daughter’s posts on social media. She was showing off male models, luxury cars, and on her wrist, the global limited-edition diamond bracelet I had given Lila. What shocked me most was the car that appeared in nearly every photo, the very one I had gifted Lila for her college graduation. How the hell had it ended up with her instead?!