With congratulations

The return trip from the port was a whirlwind of silence and anxiety. Magi had the small envelope for Adrián clutched tight in her hand, like a piece of burning coal. The words of the man from the warehouse still echoed in her ears: "Too fine for these kinds of errands." They were an echo of the same mentality that had undressed her in the poker game, only wrapped in the contempt of the working class towards a luxury it could not possess.

Upon arriving at Torres del Este, the elevator seemed to ascend toward an executioner's sky. Every number that lit up brought her closer to the moment of truth. Had Adrián noticed the alteration of the seal? Had the man from the warehouse informed him of her reaction?

The doors opened directly into the penthouse. Adrián was standing in the living room, by the panoramic windows, with a phone in his hand. When he saw her, he hung up immediately. His expression was not suspicious, but of an open, almost warm satisfaction. A genuine smile, that didn't reach his eyes of ice, but that was more terrifying than any scowl.

"Magda," he greeted her, extending his hand. "The carrier pigeon returns."

She approached, feeling how the tight skirt reminded her of every step. She handed him the small envelope. Her fingers, surprisingly, did not tremble.

He took it, weighed it in his hand without opening it, and looked at her.

"Good," he said, and the word sounded like a verdict. "I knew you wouldn't fail me. The contact already informed me. Everything was clean. Efficient."

An immense relief, so intense that it almost made her stagger, washed over her. He didn't know. Or he didn't care. She had passed the test.

"It… it was nothing," she managed to say, her voice slightly husky.

"That is not true," he replied, tucking the envelope into the inside pocket of his jacket. "It was everything. The first time is always the hardest. You cross a threshold." He moved closer, and his gaze became evaluating, but this time with a hint of… approval? "And to celebrate, I have thought of a reward."

Magi held her breath. Money? Jewels? That at least would be transparent.

"Valeria won't stop insisting," he continued. "So this weekend, a day in the country. The three of us. At the family estate. Fresh air, good food… normalcy." He paused, and his smile widened a millimeter. "You have earned a rest, Magda. And it suits me that my sister continues believing that you are the nice girl who makes her laugh."

The invitation fell on Magi like a lead cloak. It wasn't a prize. It was another layer of the charade, another mission. A "day of normalcy" in which she would have to play the hardest role: that of the casual and charming girlfriend, while inside she was falling apart from the guilt of having betrayed Costa and from the fear of this man who was smiling at her.

"Sounds… nice," knowing she had no option to refuse.

"It will be," he affirmed with certainty. "It will be good for you. A reminder that life is not just business and… table games." The double meaning floated in the air, poisoning the supposed kindness of the gesture.

He ran a hand through her hair, a gesture that intended to be affectionate but felt like the mark of an owner on his pet.

"Rest. We'll pick you up on Saturday." His tone made it clear that the audience was over.

Magi left the penthouse, her body numb. She went down in the elevator and stepped out onto the street, feeling the sunlight like a mockery. She didn't feel like an agent who had achieved a triumph. She felt like an accomplice who had just been rewarded for her crime. And the "prize" was a deeper dive into the lie, a day in the country with the sister who represented everything she had lost and everything Adrián could destroy. She had delivered the package, but she had sold another piece of her soul. And the worst was that, looking at Adrián's smile, a tiny and terrified part of her had felt… recognized.