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Back The Society Trilogy
Chapters (136)
  1. Cover
  2. About This Book
  3. Requiem of the Soul
  4. About This Book
  5. Prologue
  6. 1
  7. 2
  8. 3
  9. 4
  10. 5
  11. 6
  12. 7
  13. 8
  14. 9
  15. 10
  16. 11
  17. 12
  18. 13
  19. 14
  20. 15
  21. 16
  22. 17
  23. 18
  24. 19
  25. 20
  26. 21
  27. 22
  28. 23
  29. 24
  30. 25
  31. 26
  32. 27
  33. 28
  34. 29
  35. 30
  36. 31
  37. 32
  38. 33
  39. 34
  40. Reparation of Sin
  41. About This Book
  42. 1
  43. 2
  44. 3
  45. 4
  46. 5
  47. 6
  48. 7
  49. 8
  50. 9
  51. 10
  52. 11
  53. 12
  54. 13
  55. 14
  56. 15
  57. 16
  58. 17
  59. 18
  60. 19
  61. 20
  62. 21
  63. 22
  64. 23
  65. 24
  66. 25
  67. 26
  68. 27
  69. 28
  70. 29
  71. 30
  72. 31
  73. 32
  74. 33
  75. 34
  76. 35
  77. 36
  78. 37
  79. 38
  80. 39
  81. 40
  82. 41
  83. Resurrection of the Heart
  84. About This Book
  85. 1
  86. 2
  87. 3
  88. 4
  89. 5
  90. 6
  91. 7
  92. 8
  93. 9
  94. 10
  95. 11
  96. 12
  97. 13
  98. 14
  99. 15
  100. 16
  101. 17
  102. 18
  103. 19
  104. 20
  105. 21
  106. 22
  107. 23
  108. 24
  109. 25
  110. 26
  111. 27
  112. 28
  113. 29
  114. 30
  115. 31
  116. 32
  117. 33
  118. 34
  119. 35
  120. 36
  121. 37
  122. 38
  123. 39
  124. 40
  125. 41
  126. 42
  127. 43
  128. 44
  129. 45
  130. Epilogue
  131. Want More of The Society?
  132. Also by Natasha Knight
  133. Also by A. Zavarelli
  134. About A. Zavarelli
  135. About Natasha Knight
  136. Thank you!

I turn to Antonia. “Um. No, I’m fine. Thanks.”

“I’ll leave you to it, then.” With that, Antonia is gone, and I’m left alone with the doctor.

“Are you with IVI?” I ask first thing.

“IVI?” He raises his eyebrows.

“The Society.”

He pauses. “No, I’m not with any society,” he says, looking rather confused. He reaches into his pocket to take out a business card and hands it to me. “Your husband actually flew me in from California. I have my own practice there. I’m an otolaryngologist.”

I study the card, then look back up at him.

He must see my confusion now because he smiles. “Ear, nose, and throat and I specialize in vestibular disorders. Your husband called my office and explained things. He’s a bit worried about you.”

At that, I feel my eyebrows go up. “Santiago?”

“Yes.”

“Is worried about me?”

He nods, again looking confused.

“Hm.” I remember his words to me last night. How cold they were. He’s not doing this for me. He’s doing it to ensure the safety of his children should I ever become pregnant with any.

“Shall we get started?”

“Okay.”

He gestures for me to sit on the sofa and resumes the seat he’d just vacated. From inside his briefcase, he pulls out a folder and opens it, and I get a glimpse of my name on the first sheet of paper.

“What are those?” I ask.

“Some of your medical records. Mr. De La Rosa was kind enough to send them along. I haven’t had a chance to read them completely yet as this was rather short notice, but from what I’ve read, it doesn’t look like you’ve had any treatment for the disorder?”

I shift my gaze from the papers to him. I guess I’m not surprised Santiago has my medical records.

“Just a diagnosis when I was young.” My mother had decided treatment wasn’t necessary. I just had to “get over it.” Her exact words. Because treatment would make the condition public, and she couldn’t have that. I was flawed enough. My dad argued about it with her but ultimately gave in.

“I see,” he says, looking through more of the papers in that folder before taking out an electronic pad and asking me a long list of questions.