With a great reward

Back in the penthouse, the atmosphere was electric, charged with a static that made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. Adrián wasn’t by the window; he presided over the center of the room with the posture of a conqueror who had just received the keys to a besieged city. When Magi crossed the threshold, he scanned her with an intensity that seemed to want to pierce through the silk of the bodysuit and read her very thoughts.

"And?" he asked without preamble. His voice was a whip-crack of anticipation.

"He’ll sign," Magi announced. Her voice sounded frigid and professional, stripped of any trace of Cadet Rojas. "Tomorrow. Pier 7, at 21:00. He wants to oversee the 'initial transfer' personally."

The lie, woven together with Costa and Lorenzo, left her lips with a terrifying naturalness. The "transfer" would not be of money, but of lead and justice.

Adrián fell silent for a second, processing the victory. Then, a slow, expansive smile—a grimace of pure predatory satisfaction—transformed his face.

"I knew it," he murmured, closing the distance between them with a wolf-like stride. "I knew you were the perfect weapon. Others use ****; I use you."

He stopped in front of her, invading her personal space. The scent of his woody cologne and the dry smell of the leather whip still resting on the table mingled in the air. His gaze swept over Magi’s face with a possessive pride that made her feel like a newly won trophy.

"You’ve passed every test, Magda. You’ve brought Fiore to his knees."

And then, without warning, he seized her by the nape of the neck and captured her lips in a kiss that sought not pleasure, but to mark territory. It was firm, invasive, and tasted of absolute dominance. Under the pressure, Magi remained rigid—a statue of silk and steel. She didn’t fight, but she didn’t yield either; she let him claim his "victory" while she, mentally, counted the hours of freedom she had left before the pier became either her grave or her throne.

When he pulled away, Adrián’s eyes shone with a dark fire.

"This deserves a reward equal to your new status," he announced, pulling a titanium keychain with two chrome keys from his pocket. "The keys to Penthouse 52B. Directly below this one."

Magi looked at the keys. They weren't a gift; they were the links of a shorter chain.

"You’re no longer a guest, Magda. You’re my partner. My neighbor." He closed her hand over the cold metal with unnecessary ****. "I’ll have direct access to you. Day and night. No waiting. No excuses."

The golden cage had snapped shut. Adrián wanted her so close he could smell her fear, so close there wasn't a single corner of her life he didn't oversee.

"It’s... more than I expected," Magi managed to say, forcing a smile that was a triumph of acting over disgust.

"And that’s not all," he continued, relishing his power. "Tomorrow, after the signing, we’re going straight to the airport. My jet is ready. I’m taking you to Cerberus Island. One week. Just us."

Magi’s heart stopped. Cerberus. The hound of hell. The name was no coincidence; it was a luxury ****. Total isolation in his private territory, far from Costa, Lorenzo, and any law other than Soler's will. There, the silk bodysuit and the whip would be only the beginning.

"We’ll celebrate our triumph away from prying eyes," he added, stroking her jaw with his thumb. "There, you can take off all your masks, Magda. All of them, except the one that belongs to me. On the island, there will be nowhere to hide."

"It will be... an unforgettable experience," she lied, feeling cold sweat run down her back.

"It will be," he confirmed with a lecherous gaze. "Now go and pack your bags. Bring little clothing. You won't need it where we're going."

Magi left the penthouse feeling the weight of the keys in her hand and the mark of the whip on her thigh. The operation at Pier 7 was no longer just a police mission; it was her only chance at survival. If she failed, Cerberus Island would become the place where Cadet Rojas died for good, making way for a nameless luxury ****. Tomorrow at 21:00, the bridge would break, and she prayed she would be on the right side when it all went up in flames.