Chapter 3 – Jessica’s Velvet Noose
927 Words
*Upper East Side – Jessica Carver's Townhouse*
“She lied to you."
Jessica lounged on a tufted chaise, pale legs crossed, voice syrupy as she slid her phone across the coffee table.
Leonardo didn't pick it up.
“I already saw the photos," he muttered.
“Then why are you still pretending she's different?" Jessica said, feigning concern. “Hazel Kingsley, daughter of Charles Kingsley. The same Kingsley who funneled money into that political scandal last year."
“That has nothing to do with her."
Jessica sat upright, clutching a silk throw like armor. “She tricked you, Leo. Pretended to be poor. Pretended to love you. How do you know she wasn't gathering dirt for her family?"
Leonardo's jaw tensed. “Stop."
“Fine. But don't come crying when she drags your name through the mud."
He stood. “Don't confuse jealousy for concern, Jess."
Her voice cracked. “I'm not jealous."
He stared at her, then walked out the door without another word.
Jessica sat frozen, then slowly smiled.
“You will be."
---
*Flashback – Ten Years Ago*
Jessica, age fifteen, cried into Leonardo's shirt on the steps of St. Helena's Academy.
“She said my scar was disgusting," she whispered. “Everyone laughed."
He tightened his arms around her. “Who?"
Jessica looked up, lower lip trembling. “Hazel Kingsley."
His face went hard. “She said that?"
Jessica nodded, eyes wide and glassy.
Lie number one.
He stormed off to confront the nonexistent insult, while Jessica smiled behind her hands.
It had always worked.
Tears. Vulnerability. Broken-doll charm.
She didn't need to be strong—just fragile in the right places.
---
*Present – Jessica's Bedroom*
Jessica stared at the collage she'd assembled over the past year.
Photos. Emails. Printouts. Maps.
Hazel and Leonardo on rooftops. Hazel leaving charity events alone. Hazel exiting a boutique with sunglasses and secrets.
She picked up a vial of fake blood and turned it in her fingers.
A kidnapping wouldn't be hard to fake.
All it took was misdirection. A planted clue. A sob story.
She smiled.
And a villain.
---
*Hazel's Apartment – Midnight*
Hazel's fingers shook as she zipped up her overnight bag.
Leonardo had been cold all day. Distant. Distracted.
He hadn't said it outright—but the shift was obvious. No rooftop dinners. No spontaneous texts. No late-night calls.
And she'd seen the photo leak.
Her face. With her father.
She sat on the bed, head in hands.
She should've told him.
She should've—
Her phone lit up.
Leonardo.
She answered on the first ring. “Leo—"
“Is it true?" His voice was steel.
Hazel froze. “Let me explain."
“Don't lie."
“I didn't lie," she said, trying to keep her voice steady. “I just... I didn't tell you everything."
He was silent.
“I wanted something real," she continued. “Not politics, not business—just you."
“Then why the games?"
“Because I didn't think you'd look at me the same way."
His exhale was sharp. “Maybe I shouldn't have."
Click.
The line went dead.
Hazel stared at her phone until the screen dimmed.
---
*Jessica's Plan in Motion*
Two days later, Leonardo received a call from the NYPD.
“Mr. Moretti? We found your friend Jessica's car abandoned by the Hudson."
“What?" he barked. “What happened?"
“There's blood inside. Shattered glass. We suspect foul play."
Leonardo's heart plummeted. “She was just here. At her apartment."
“We've also recovered a piece of jewelry—a barrette with 'HK' engraved on it."
Silence.
“Sir?"
Leonardo's voice dropped. “Hazel Kingsley."
---
*Hazel's Arrest*
Hazel stood in her kitchen, staring out at the skyline, when they came.
Three officers. No warning.
“You're under arrest for the suspected abduction and possible murder of Jessica Carver."
Hazel blinked. “What?"
“You have the right to remain silent—"
She flinched as cold metal clamped around her wrists.
“This is a mistake," she whispered. “I haven't seen Jessica in weeks."
They didn't respond.
Across the street, behind tinted glass, Jessica watched the scene unfold with a glass of wine in hand.
“Perfect," she murmured.
---
*Interrogation Room – Manhattan Precinct*
Hazel sat in a metal chair, wrists red from the cuffs.
“Jessica was your rival, correct?" the detective asked.
“No. She hated me. I barely spoke to her."
“Multiple witnesses say otherwise."
Hazel narrowed her eyes. “Which witnesses?"
The detective smiled. “A neighbor saw you outside her apartment last week. Another found this in their trash chute." He slid a crumpled email printout forward.
Hazel's breath caught.
It was a letter she'd never sent. One she drafted and deleted. Confrontational. Angry. Accusing Jessica of sabotage.
“How did you get this?" she demanded.
“Someone forwarded it to us."
Hazel shook her head. “She's framing me."
“Then prove it."
“I can't," she whispered.
---
*Leonardo's Study – Later That Night*
Leonardo stood at his liquor cabinet, glass trembling in his hand.
“You know she hated Jessica," said Matteo, his consigliere.
Leonardo didn't answer.
“She's a Kingsley. That family doesn't care who they hurt. Maybe Hazel's no different."
Leonardo slammed his glass down. “I need evidence."
“You have all the evidence you need," Matteo replied. “Fingerprints. Motive. Emails."
Leonardo stared at Hazel's photo—taken at the gala. Smiling. Radiant. Lying.
“Call the DA," he said. “Push for max charges."
- Writer
