CHAPTER 2 - The Devil's Handoff

Alex's arms trembled as he carried Jezza's unconscious form through the estate's service entrance, her head lolling against his shoulder while her blonde hair spilled over his sleeve like silk. The weight of her body felt heavier than it should have, as if gravity itself was condemning him for what he was about to do.

The black SUV waited in the shadows, its tinted windows reflecting nothing but darkness. Two men emerged from the vehicle, their movements professional and cold.

"She's drugged?" The taller man's voice carried a slight accent.

"Yes, Margaret said she'd be out for hours." Alex's voice cracked as Jezza shifted slightly in his arms, a soft whimper escaping her lips.

"Good, transfer her now."

For one desperate moment, Alex considered running, taking her somewhere Margaret's money and connections couldn't reach them. But when the second man stepped closer with his hand moving to his jacket, Alex's resolve crumbled.

Strong hands lifted Jezza from his arms, and they placed her in the backseat like she was nothing more than cargo. Alex's phone buzzed in his pocket.

"Check it," the tall man said.

Alex pulled out his phone with shaking hands. A notification flashed across the screen: WIRE TRANSFER RECEIVED. He opened his banking app and stared at the number that appeared. Five million dollars. The zeros seemed to blur together as his vision swam.

"The money..." he whispered.

"All there, as promised." The tall man slammed the door shut, sealing Jezza inside. "Now listen carefully. You never saw us, you don't know her, you have no idea what happened after she collapsed at that party. Are we clear?"

Alex couldn't look away from his phone screen. Five million dollars. More money than his father had lost gambling. More money than would clear every debt hanging over his head. More money than he'd ever see again in his lifetime.

All he had to do was forget the girl who'd loved him.

Alex nodded, watching the SUV's taillights disappear into the night and taking with it the only person who had ever looked at him like he was worth something. But he never realized that, not now, maybe someday.

---

Inside the estate, Margaret played her role with precision, her face a masterpiece of maternal concern as she moved through clusters of worried guests. "I'm so sorry everyone had to witness that," she said, pressing a delicate handkerchief to her dry eyes. "Jezza has been under such tremendous pressure lately with the wedding and the business responsibilities Harold's been placing on her shoulders."

Harold Clarksville stood by the grand staircase looking like a broken old man despite having built an empire from nothing. "I should have seen the signs, the way she's been acting lately, so distant and fragmented."

"Darling, you couldn't have known." Margaret placed a comforting hand on his arm, her touch gentle and reassuring. "She's been hiding it so well, but I've noticed things. Just last week, I found her in the study at three in the morning, talking to herself."

Gina stood nearby with confusion and genuine concern written across her eighteen-year-old face. Unlike Nessa, Gina had always cared for Jezza, though Margaret constantly reminded her of everything Jezza supposedly took from her. "But Mom, she seemed fine yesterday when the dress lady came."

"Oh, sweetheart, people with mental illness are very good at wearing masks." Margaret pulled Gina close, the picture of a protective mother. "Your stepsister has been fighting demons we couldn't see."

The family doctor approached with practiced gravity. "I've arranged for Jezza to be taken to Riverside Manor, a private facility that specializes in acute psychiatric episodes. She'll get the best care with complete privacy from the media."

"When can I see her?" Harold asked desperately.

"I'm afraid that's not advisable right now," Dr. Morrison replied smoothly. "She's in a very fragile state, and seeing family members could trigger another episode. The doctors recommend complete isolation until she's stabilized."

Marcus approached quietly, concern evident in his voice. "Mom, don't you think we should at least visit her and see her face?"

Margaret's smile never wavered, but her eyes turned ice cold. "Marcus, darling, your stepsister is having a psychotic break. We can't risk triggering anything right now." When he started to protest, her voice carried a steel edge. "Jezza is getting exactly what she needs, and I need you to help me convince the guests that everything is under control."

---

Three hours later, after the estate had emptied, Nessa emerged from her room in casual clothes with her face carefully arranged in false concern. "How is she?"

"Stable, according to Dr. Morrison, though it's going to be a long recovery." Margaret's voice carried satisfaction. "Months, possibly years of treatment."

Harold sank into his favorite armchair, suddenly looking every one of his sixty-two years. "I keep thinking about her mother. Elena always worried that the pressure of wealth would be too much for Jezza."

"Don't blame yourself, darling." Margaret perched on the arm of his chair, her voice honey-sweet as she ran her fingers through his graying hair. "Sometimes genetics are stronger than the environment. Your stepsister's mother did have those episodes before she died, the depression and mood swings. Mental illness often runs in families."

It was a masterful lie since Elena had been perfectly stable, but grief and shock made Harold susceptible to suggestion, and Margaret had been planting these seeds for months.

Gina looked up from where she'd been quietly crying. "What do you mean?"

"In the meantime, someone needs to step in at Phantom Tech," Margaret continued, ignoring the question. "The board is going to panic when news of this gets out."

Harold nodded absently. "Marcus can handle day-to-day operations, and Nessa understands the financial side better than anyone."

"What about Jezza's shares?" Nessa asked, trying to sound casual.

"If she's declared mentally incompetent, I'll need to apply for guardianship to protect her interests while she recovers." Harold's words made Margaret smile her first genuine smile all night.

---

Miles away, Alex stood in his apartment staring at his bank account on his phone screen. The numbers were real, more money than he'd ever seen in his life, but the money felt like blood on his hands.

His phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number: "Package delivered, contract complete. Recommend extended vacation overseas with my daughter."

Alex deleted the message and threw his phone against the wall, watching it shatter into pieces. In the silence that followed, an unfamiliar feeling crept over him. Why did he feel sad about Jezza? He shook his head and pushed the thought away, his mind turning to Nessa and ruling Phantom Tech together.

---

Meanwhile, thirty thousand feet above the Atlantic Ocean, Jezza began to stir in the cargo hold of a private jet as the drugs wore off just enough for consciousness to return. Her eyes opened slowly to complete darkness, and her head throbbed with pain while her mouth tasted like metal.

"Where..." she tried to speak, but her tongue felt thick and uncooperative.

"She's waking up," a voice came from somewhere nearby, followed by heavy footsteps on the metal floor.

"Give her another dose, she needs to stay quiet until we land," another voice commanded.

"Land where?" Jezza tried to move, but her hands were tied behind her back. "What's happening? Where's my father?"

No one answered as a shadow moved over her, and she felt a sharp pain in her arm. "No, please..." she whispered, but the drugs pulled her under again, down into darkness where nightmares waited.

The last thing she heard was someone laughing, cold and cruel. "Welcome to your new life, princess."

Then nothing but black.