Vanessa Kirby Plastic Surgery Novels & Stories

the assistant asked carefully. “She doesn’t get touched,” he said. *** Vanessa stood in front of the mirror. Perfect. Flawless. Composed. But her hands weren’t steady. She clenched them slightly. Then released. Again. Again. And Again. She needed control. The timeline was tightening. Dr. Keller had already started preliminary procedures. Hormones. Testing. Scheduling. Everything was moving. But not fast enough. It was never fast enough. Her phone buzzed. Carissa.

Vanessa asked and when the doctor didn't reply to her immediately, she was certain that something indeed was wrong somewhere. “I’m sorry to inform you of this, but Mr Williams needs an immediate surgery. There's an empty surgery spot available by tomorrow afternoon, and if you're able to come up with the money by morning time tomorrow, we'll perform the surgery for him”. “Is that all?”. Vanessa asked the doctor, because to her, it didn't look like a big deal since she felt she could come up with the money.

A few residents looked at me sympathetically like I had just received a death sentence. But if only they knew our dirty little secret. The first consultation of the morning involved a woman in her late twenties named Vanessa Dan. A very beautiful lady. Tall, curvy, flawless skin, expensive perfume… the kind of woman who clearly knew the effect she had on men. And unfortunately, she knew exactly how to use it. The moment Dr. Sinclair entered the examination room, her face lit up. “Doctor Sinclair,” she said warmly, smiling far too sweetly. “It’s good to see you again.”

Not fear for herself. Fear for him. Because if they were confident enough to take her, they believed they could control him. And that meant Victor Hale was more prepared than anyone thought. Vanessa tested the zip ties again. Too tight to slip. But plastic. Plastic breaks. If you give it the right angle. And the right force. She inhaled slowly. Exhaled slower. Her wrists began to twist, subtle and small, rubbing the plastic against the sharp edge of the metal chair behind her. Tiny movement.

“But I…” “No buts. You’re coming with me.” *** By noon, the two women walked into the glossy white corridors of an exclusive plastic surgery clinic. The smell of antiseptic hung faintly in the air. Nurses in pristine uniforms greeted them warmly, ushering them into consultation rooms with sleek leather chairs and oversized mirrors. The surgeon, a tall man with salt-and-pepper hair, entered with a professional smile. “Ladies, I’ve reviewed your requests. A Brazilian butt lift, liposuction, tummy tuck, breast augmentation, and minor facial enhancements. Correct?”

Evan responded. After ending the call, he immediately searched for the doctor's name. There was no match for Doctor Collete Cavendish, but he did find someone closer enough. "Dr. Colette Camenisch," Evan read. "Is the leading board-certified plastic surgeon in Switzerland. She pioneered vaginal cosmetic surgery, vaginal rejuvenation, and -" Evan's heart raced, reading the last part, "is said to be the best doctor of choice for facial reconstructive surgery."

"You're Vanessa? That all-powerful doctor?" She was called all-powerful for a reason. Usually, doctors would devote themselves to a certain specialization. Brent had first heard Vanessa's name last year. She was one of the very few people in the country who could carry out tooth-in-eye surgery. It was a very complicated surgery. The procedures were complex, and the surgeon had to have very high qualifications. They had to be proficient in dentistry, eye care, radiology, and the like. There were less than five people in the whole country who were able to do it. But those people were mostly in their forties or fifties, and they were very experienced in life.