She's given a new order.

Magi had returned for "mission business." Appointment with Soler at 5:00 PM at his residence to return the garment. Opportunity to gauge his mood following the incident and report any reactions.

Magi left her coffee cup half-finished. The mere thought of returning to that penthouse, of seeing the door, the glass elevator, provoked a physical nausea in her. The gray sweatshirt and sweatpants, now washed and folded with obsessive precision on her nightstand, seemed inert, but to her, they were artifacts charged with the memory of humiliation.

But there was ****. It was an order. With fingers she could barely feel, she picked up her phone and typed a message to Adrián, hoping the formality would deter him:

Good morning, Adrián. It's Magda. I have your clothes. Could I drop them off at your apartment this afternoon?

The answer was almost immediate: Sure. Stop by around 5. I'll be there.

At 4:55 PM, Magi stood before the imposing Torres del Este building. She wore her most nondescript civilian clothes—jeans and a loose sweatshirt—trying to blend in, to be invisible. The bag containing Adrián's clothes weighed like lead in her hand.

The doorman, in an impeccable uniform, recognized her with a slight nod and opened the door without a word. The elevator, silent and swift, carried her to the top floor. With every passing second, her heart beat harder.

When the doors slid open, she wasn't met with the expectant silence of last time. From inside the penthouse came voices: Adrián's and another, higher-pitched, female, laughing carelessly. Magi hesitated on the threshold. Was he with someone? Was it another "guest"? Panic began to well up again. Would she have to act, to play "Magda" in front of a witness?

Before she could decide whether to flee, Adrián appeared in the entryway. He wore casual clothes, but with a relaxed elegance. His expression was neutral, but his eyes scanned her quickly.

"Magda, punctual as always," he said, with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Come in. Don't just stand there."

He ushered her inside. The penthouse, bathed in the golden light of the afternoon, seemed less sinister, but no less oppressive. And then Magi saw her. Sitting on the white sofa, legs crossed and sipping from a teacup, was a young woman, perhaps a little younger than Adrián, with the same dark hair and piercing eyes, but with an open, curious expression. She didn't dress with Adrián's ostentation, but in a bohemian, carefree style.

"Magda, meet my sister, Valeria," Adrián said, in a tone that aimed for casual but which Magi perceived as deliberate. "Valeria, this is Magda. A... friend."

Valeria smiled, a genuine smile full of warmth that completely threw Magi off balance.

"Hi, Magda! It's a pleasure. Adrián doesn't usually bring... female friends around here," she shot a knowing glance at her brother, who responded with a shrug.

Magi, stunned, **** a tense smile.

"Hello. Likewise. I... just came to return this," she held out the bag like a shield.

"Oh, don't tell me you lent him clothes!" Valeria exclaimed, laughing. "That really is new. What did he do, spill wine on a date?" she asked, looking at her brother with amused disbelief.

Adrián took the bag with a vague gesture.

"Something like that," he murmured evasively. "Would you like some tea, Magda? Valeria just made a pot."

"No, no, please, don't bother," Magi hastened to say, desperately wishing to escape. "I just stopped by to drop this off. I don't want to interrupt."

"Nonsense!" Valeria said, getting up and heading to the kitchen. "You're already here. Besides, I have to hear how you met my brother. His stories are usually terribly boring," she winked at Magi.

Magi stood paralyzed, looking at Adrián. He watched her with an intrigued expression, as if he too were curious to see how she would handle the situation.

"It was... at a club," Magi managed to say, her voice slightly cracking. "Ebony."

"Ebony?" Valeria frowned as she poured another cup. "That place is so... dark. Don't tell me that's your kind of scene, Adrián," her tone was one of affectionate reproach.

"One has to relax where one can, sister," Adrián replied with a **** smile. "Magda was the new waitress. Very... efficient."

The lie rolled off his lips with an ease that terrified Magi. Adrián was rewriting their meeting, creating a façade for his sister. And she was an accomplice. Valeria handed the teacup to Magi, who accepted it with trembling fingers.

"Well, it's a nice change," Valeria said, sitting down again. "I'm glad you're meeting people outside your... usual circle."

The next fifteen minutes were a surreal **** for Magi. She drank bitter tea she didn't taste while Valeria asked light questions about her life—questions she evaded with vague answers—and Adrián watched in silence, with a look that seemed to say See how easy it is to lie? It was a familiar staging, a farce where she was the guest actress, **** to play a role under the watchful eye of her director.

Finally, Magi couldn't take it anymore.

"I really have to go," she said, setting the empty cup on the table with a sharp click. "I have... a shift."

"Of course," Adrián said, making no attempt to detain her. "I'll walk you to the door."

Valeria said goodbye with a sincere hug that Magi received stiffly.

"It was a pleasure, Magda. I hope to see you again."

At the penthouse door, Adrián stopped. The hallway was empty.

"My sister is... special," he said in a low voice. "She liked you. That's interesting," his gaze grew more intense. "See you soon, waitress."

Magi didn't answer. She rode the elevator down trembling, not from the fear she felt before, but from confusion. She had met a normal, warm person in the heart of the wolf's den. And that didn't make Adrián less dangerous; it made him more complex, more unpredictable. The return was complete. But the sister, Valeria, had become an unexpected variable, a point of light in the darkness that, rather than comforting, was even more unsettling. Was it real? Or was it another layer of Adrián's manipulation? Magi didn't know. She only knew that the mission had just become infinitely more complicated.