She found what she had to wear

The black sedan slid to a stop in front of the imposing marble entrance of the Grand Bay Hotel. Magi stepped out of the car, feeling how her simple cotton dress and flip-flops were completely incongruous under the distant but perceptive gaze of the uniformed doorman.

Walking through the revolving doors was like entering another dimension. The lobby was vast, with soaring ceilings, dazzling crystal chandeliers, and the soft sound of a grand piano. The air smelled of fresh flowers and old luxury. She headed to the reception desk, her heart pounding. Every step on the thick, silent carpet was a hammering in her ears.

The receptionist, impeccable in her tailored suit and a perfect professional smile, looked at her.

"Good evening, miss. How may I assist you?"

Magi swallowed. What should she say? "I'm here for Penthouse 4 for a private dinner as a favor for my day off"?

"I have... an appointment. In Penthouse 4," she managed to say, sliding the magnetic card across the polished marble counter.

The woman took the card. There was no surprise, no judgment, and no recognition in her eyes. Only absolute efficiency.

"Of course, miss. The private elevator for the PH suites is immediately to your right. Please take the one marked PH1-4. You have already been granted access. Have a pleasant evening."

The lack of reaction was the most humiliating thing. To this woman, Magi was just one more, probably a high-end escort arriving at her destination. She was part of the hotel's furniture, another routine transaction. A blush of shame burned her cheeks as she headed to the designated elevator.

The elevator was small, lined with mirrors and dark wood panels. The soft ding as it stopped on the highest floor sounded like a verdict. The doors opened directly onto a small private vestibule with a single door: PH4.

She slid the card. A soft click. She pushed the heavy door open.

The impact was immediate. The suite was enormous, an extension of the hotel lobby's minimalist luxury. White walls, dark wood floors, designer furniture with impeccable lines. But the first thing she saw, placed carefully on a white leather, low-profile sofa, was not a man.

It was a dress.

A long, black evening dress, simple in cut but obscenely elegant. The silky fabric, with a faint sheen, promised to cling to the body like a second skin. Beside it, on a velvet cushion, rested a set of fine lingerie: a black lace bra and panties, as exquisite as they were tiny. They were high-end weapons of seduction, far from the grotesque outfits May imposed on her at the aquarium.

Magi froze. This was not what she expected. She had expected something vulgar, explicit. This was... worse. It was sophisticated. It was real. It implied an expectation of class, of aesthetic complicity, that terrified her even more. She walked closer and touched the cool silk of the dress. Her mind, clouded by fear, searched for an explanation, a known face that fit this scenario.

Alexander.

The name surfaced like a flash of twisted logic. The man from the BMW, the one with the bejeweled hands and the hawk-like gaze. The only man from that world she knew, whose name she didn't even know, but whom she had named in her mind. He had the money, the attitude. He had wanted "a souvenir of the transaction." This bore his stamp: cold, luxurious, transactional.

A bip made her jump. She pulled out her phone with a trembling hand. It wasn't May. It was Evans.

"Everything okay? I waited for you last night."

The message seemed to be from another world, another life. The simplicity of his concern was an offense compared to the elegant horror surrounding her. With clumsy fingers, she typed a reply, feeling like she was lying to both worlds at once.

"Sorry. I couldn't make it. Had to stay at work."

Evans' reply came instantly.

"It's fine. Don't worry. You'll make it up to me."

The seemingly understanding words sounded like a new, accumulating debt, another obligation in the shadows. She turned off her phone and dropped it into her bag.

She looked at the black dress. She looked at the lingerie. She took a deep breath. The suite was silent, waiting. There was no going back. With slow movements, as if in a dream, she began to undress. The cotton of her loose dress fell to the floor, an old skin to shed. She put on the lingerie, feeling the rough lace against her skin, the perfect sizes that enhanced and exposed her body in a new, terrifying way. Then, she slipped into the black dress. The silk slid over her skin like a whisper. Looking at herself in the enormous wall mirror, she didn't recognize herself. She saw an extremely elegant and **** stranger, a high-end concubine ready to be presented.

The whisper of the elevator arrived from the outer vestibule. The doors were opening. Someone was arriving. Magi closed her eyes, held her breath, and prepared to face Alexander.