The Surgeon Restores His New Love
Language: en
The moment that black Bentley Continental GT pulled into the clinic’s private circular drive, my breath hitched. I knew that car. I knew the silhouette behind the tinted glass. But more importantly, I knew the girl who stepped out of the passenger seat. This was the fifteenth time this young woman had come to my private surgical suite for a hymenoplasty. When the procedure was over and the sedative was wearing off, she gripped my hand with a frantic, trembling strength. Her voice was thin, reedy with anxiety. She asked me if this many "restorations" would make it harder for her to have…