With a high stake.

The air in the private room was now a blend of expensive brandy, cold sweat, and electric tension. Magi, sitting in only her scarlet lingerie, felt every man's gaze like a pinprick against her skin, but her mind remained focused on the battle. The chill of the wooden floor crept up her bare legs, a brutal reminder of the price of defeat.

Roberto dealt the new cards with a satisfied smile. His eyes, bright and voracious, didn't leave Magi's bare torso, anticipating the fall of the next garment.

Magi looked at her cards with the cold concentration of a high-stakes player. Her mind was a whirlwind of **** calculation. She had lost her armor; now only her will remained.

The hand began. Roberto bet high immediately, an intimidating move. Emilio, with his characteristic impassivity, called. Adrián followed. All eyes turned to Magi.

It was her turn. Calling meant risking the only garment remaining on her lower half. Folding would shatter the illusion of "Magda," the audacious girl who feared nothing. She had already paid too high a price to back down now.

With a voice like a thread, **** through a tight throat but showing no fear, she whispered:

"I call."

The community cards were revealed one by one. A two of clubs. A seven of hearts. An ace of spades. Magi had nothing. Her initial draw was a bust. Roberto, on the other hand, couldn't hide his enthusiasm.

"I raise," he announced, sliding an imaginary chip toward the center of the table.

Magi didn't flinch. She had already lost it.

But Adrián intervened, his tone authoritative, unexpectedly protective.

"Enough, Roberto. That’s enough. Magda has already proven her commitment. It isn't necessary to strip her of... everything."

Magi's face flushed, not with shame, but with the contained fury of the interruption. She didn't want his pity. She didn't want him to rescue her. She wanted to prove to everyone that she wouldn't break.

"No," Magi said, her voice stronger than she expected, looking directly at Adrián. "I'm staying in the game. I'm not folding."

Adrián looked at her in surprise, the calm on his face cracking for an instant.

"Magda, don't be stupid. You don't have any garments left..."

"Yes, I do," she interrupted him, her eyes fixed on him with an audacity bordering on insubordination. "I raise. I bet the thong."

An absolute silence, charged with anticipation, fell over the room. Roberto leaned back with a wolfish smile. Adrián studied her, his gaze shifting from fury at the disobedience to delight at the total lack of modesty.

"I fold," Emilio said, placing his cards on the table with a casual gesture.

"I call," Adrián said, in a grave tone.

It was Magi against Roberto. And she was lost; her hand was insignificant.

"The cards, gorgeous," Roberto pressed.

With terrifying calm, Magi turned her cards face up. A pair of deuces. Nothing.

Roberto smiled, showing trip sevens.

"Looks like luck isn't on your side, honey. Time to pay up. The thong."

Magi remained motionless for a moment. There were no sobs, no pleas. She had accepted the cost. This was the end of the game for her.

With movements that, although tense, were resolute, she brought her hands to her waist. Her fingers found the thin strip of lace. A tug. The red thong, the last piece of fabric on her body, slid down her thighs and fell into the scarlet pool of her dress and bra.

She remained standing, completely naked, exposed in every part of her being. The cold air hit her, but she didn't cross her arms. She kept her back straight, her gaze fixed on the center of the table. She had lost, but she hadn't surrendered. The nudity was absolute, the physical humiliation maximal, but she had stripped of her own free will, in an attempt to win that left her mentally intact.

"Magnificent," whispered Roberto, taking a drink of his brandy, making no attempt to hide his lust.

Adrián leaned back in his chair, his smile a mixture of triumph and possession, but also of **** respect for her audacity. She had refused to be saved, choosing self-destruction for honor.

"Well, I think with this, trust is more than secured," Adrián said, ending the show with the same naturalness with which he had started it. "Roberto, Emilio, we have an important Friday ahead of us. It's time to focus."

The business meeting resumed as if nothing had happened. As if there weren't a naked woman in the corner, trembling slightly, converted into the price paid for a "trust" she never asked for and that only served to seal her own doom. The game was over, but the main match, Magi knew, was far from concluded. And she had just become a much more valuable piece on Adrián's board.