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 lolled against his shoulder, blonde hair cascading like spun silk over his sleeve. 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. Alex had never seen their faces before tonight, and he prayed he'd never see them again.

"She's drugged?" The taller man's voice carried a slight accent Alex couldn't place.

"Yes. Margaret said she'd be out for hours." Alex's voice cracked. He'd rehearsed this moment a hundred times, but nothing had prepared him for the reality of Jezza's warm breath against his neck, the familiar scent of her perfume mixing with his guilt.

"Good,transfer her."

Alex hesitated,in his arms, Jezza shifted slightly, a soft whimper escaping her lips. For one desperate moment, he considered running. Taking her and disappearing somewhere Margaret's money and connections couldn't reach them.

"Problem?" The second man stepped closer, his hand moving to his jacket.

"No…no problem." Alex's resolve crumbled like wet sand. Not like he loved her,it was all for the money anyways.

The transfer was swift and clinical. Strong hands lifted Jezza from his arms, and Alex watched as they placed her in the SUV's backseat like cargo. 

"The money?" Alex's voice was barely a whisper.

"Already transferred,check your account." The tall man slammed the door shut, sealing Jezza inside. "You never saw us,you don't know her. Are we clear?"

Alex nodded, though his legs felt like they might give out. The SUV's engine purred to life, and within seconds, it disappeared into the night. 

Taking with it the only person who had ever looked at him like he was worth something.

But yet,he never realized that.

Not now but maybe someday.

---

Inside the estate, Margaret played her role with Harold -worthy precision. Her face was a masterpiece of maternal concern as she moved through clusters of worried guests, her voice pitched at exactly the right level of distress.

"I'm so sorry everyone had to witness that," she said, pressing a delicate handkerchief to her eyes. 

"Jezza has been under such tremendous pressure lately. The wedding, the business responsibilities Harold's been placing on her shoulders. I've been worried about her mental state for weeks."

Harold Clarksville stood by the grand staircase, his face ashen. At sixty-two, he'd built an empire from nothing, but tonight he looked like a broken old man. "I should have seen the signs. The way she's been acting lately, so distant, so... 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. The way she stares off into space, the panic attacks she thinks no one sees. Just last week, I found her in the study at three in the morning, talking to herself."

Margaret's youngest daughter, Gina, stood nearby, her eighteen-year-old face a mixture of confusion and concern.

 Unlike Nessa, Gina had always genuinely cared for Jezza inwardly but whenever she tried to show it out her mother would always remind her of everything Jezza took from her. "But Mom, she seemed fine yesterday while she was discussing with the lady who brought her wedding dress home.”

"Oh, sweetheart." Margaret pulled Gina close, the picture of a mother protecting her child from harsh realities. "People with mental illness are very good at wearing masks. Your stepsister has been fighting demons we couldn't see."

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

"Thank God," Harold breathed. "When can I see her?"

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

"Mom," Marcus approached quietly, "don't you think we should go visit her,like see her face.”

Margaret's smile never wavered, but her eyes turned cold. "Marcus, darling, your step sister is having a psychotic break. we can't trigger anything for now.”

"But what if—"

"What if nothing." Margaret's voice carried a steel edge that made Marcus step back. "Jezza is getting exactly what she needs. Professional help, away from all the pressures that drove her to this point. Now please, help me convince the guests that everything is under control."

---

Three hours later, the estate had emptied except for the family. Nessa emerged from her room, having changed from her dress into casual clothes, her face carefully arranged in an expression of concern.

"How is she?" Nessa asked, though her tone held more curiosity than worry.

"Stable, according to Dr. Morrison," Margaret replied. "Though it's going to be a long recovery. 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. Maybe she was right."

"Don't blame yourself, darling." Margaret perched on the arm of his chair, her voice honey-sweet. "You gave Jezza every advantage. Sometimes genetics are stronger than the environment."

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

"Well, dear, your stepsister's mother did have those... episodes... before she died. The depression, the mood swings. Mental illness often runs in families."

It was a masterful lie. Elena had been the most mentally stable person Harold had ever known. 

But grief and shock made people susceptible to suggestion, and Margaret had been planting these seeds for months.

"I want to visit her," Harold said firmly. "Tomorrow."

"Of course, darling. Though I think we should wait until the doctors clear it. We don't want to delay her recovery." Margaret's hand moved soothingly through his graying hair.

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

Harold nodded absently. "Marcus can handle the day to day operation for now 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," Harold said slowly. "It's the only way to protect her interests while she recovers."

Margaret smiled,the first genuine smile she'd worn all night.

---

Miles away, in a soundproof warehouse near the docks, Alex stood in his empty 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 in his hands.

His phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number: "Package delivered and a contract complete. Recommend you take an 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. Why is he feeling sad for Jezzza?

He waved it off and his mind went to Nessa, he will rule the Phantom Tech with her.

Meanwhile, thirty thousand feet above the Atlantic Ocean, Jezza began to stir in the cargo hold of a private jet, the drugs wearing off just enough for her to realize that nothing would ever be the same again.

---