Adrián gives her a new objective.

The shadow of Costa’s warning dissipated the moment Magi crossed the penthouse threshold. She no longer felt the weight of guilt, but rather an electric tingle of anticipation. By the following day, Adrián’s message wasn't a burden, but the starting pistol she had been waiting for.

Upon entering, she found him standing before the living room table. Resting atop the open dossier were two garments that made Magi’s pulse quicken—not out of fear, but a hungry fascination.

The first was a deep midnight-blue dress, mermaid-cut and made of metallic tulle. It was bold, dangerous, and absolutely spectacular. The second piece, placed like a jewel over the tulle, was a lingerie set that was pure seduction engineering: a lace bustier with fine boning designed to sculpt her bust, and a thong made of strategic threads.

Magi stepped closer, but this time her gaze didn't shy away from the clothes. Her fingers brushed the blue lace with a new, almost possessive familiarity. It was a uniform, yes, but one that made her feel more powerful than any police badge.

"Your next assignment," Adrián announced, watching her reaction. "Lorenzo Fiore. Italian art importer."

Magi looked up from the dossier, her eyes shining with a spark of ambition that surprised even Adrián.

"He’s key to an expansion project," he continued, regaining his professional tone. "I need him to sign this contract. He’s ****; he prefers his contacts in Milan. You have to persuade him."

"Persuade him?" Magi repeated. This time, her voice wasn't a broken whisper, but a breath heavy with intent—almost a challenge. "I like the challenge."

Adrián smiled, this time with a note of genuine appreciation. He picked up the lace bustier with his fingertips, showing it to her.

"Men like Lorenzo appreciate art, authenticity... and the game. This isn't a costume, Magda. It’s a strategic truth. Show him that you are a collector's piece—valuable and... accessible, to the right bidder."

Magi nodded, but in her mind, she was already tracing the plan. She didn't feel like an object; she felt like the weapon. If her body was the high-quality tool Adrián provided, she was ready to calibrate it to perfection. The idea of transforming into that "work of art" to bend the will of a powerful man like Fiore gave her an intoxicating rush of adrenaline.

"Everything must be perfect," Adrián said. "The opening is in three days. You’ll wear this. And you’ll walk out of there with his signature."

Magi took the blue set. The tulle didn't feel like a prison, but like silk armor. The bustier wasn't a shackle; it was the tactical gear of her new reality. She held it against her body in front of the living room mirror, admiring how the color made her skin pop.

"Count on it, Adrián," she replied with a confident smile and icy determination. "Lorenzo Fiore won't know what hit him until he’s signed."

"Good," he nodded, satisfied by the fire he saw in her. "Study your target. And get used to the feeling. It’s the uniform of your ascent."

Magi left the penthouse with the dossier under her arm and the blue garments pressed against her chest. They no longer burned her skin; they ignited it. Costa could keep his moralism and his warnings; Magi had already crossed the line, and the view from the other side was much more exciting. She was ready to leave Cadet Rojas behind for good and become the deadliest, most sophisticated version of Magda. The mission had begun, and she intended to win.