The morning was already thick with tension in Isabelle Roy's office, a quiet hum of frantic activity before the inevitable eruption. Her employees sat around the large table, dressed in the pristine attire expected in her world. The table was clean, the papers neatly arranged, and the digital presentations queued on the screens in front of them. But underneath the sterile order, the atmosphere was heavy-like the calm before a storm.

Izzy sat at the head of the table, her eyes fixed on the numbers on her screen, sharp and unblinking. Her fingers tapped rhythmically on the edge of her coffee mug, an almost imperceptible sign of the simmering focus that only those who knew her would recognize.

She wasn't in the mood for distractions. The room had been discussing quarterly projections, expansion plans for Aurora Luxe, and new contracts with clients that made even the most powerful people in the room uneasy. Everything was going as planned-until it wasn't.

A quiet murmur broke the rhythm. A new hire, an eager young analyst who had been trying to impress her, looked nervously from person to person. He opened his mouth but hesitated. Isabelle didn't look up, but the pause hung in the air like a brick, heavy and undeniable.

"Spit it out," she said, though her expression remained unchanged.

The young man, his name was Kyle, swallowed hard. "There's... there's an issue with one of the shipments. It didn't go as-"

Izzy's gaze lifted from the screen, cutting him off mid-sentence. She didn't need to hear the rest. She was already waiting for more.

"What exactly do you mean by 'didn't go as planned'?" she asked, her voice flat. But there was something in the way she said it, a subtle edge that made everyone else in the room go still. No one wanted to answer. They shifted, looked down at their papers, avoided eye contact. Everyone knew what came next when things went sideways.

"I'm waiting," she repeated, her eyes now fixed on Kyle. The quiet tension in the room could have been cut with a knife. The usual hum of the office felt far too distant now.

Kyle cleared his throat and finally spoke, his words tumbling out. "One of the diamonds-the shipment from Belgium-it's been delayed. There was a mix-up at the customs office, and... and we're not sure if it will arrive in time for the gala."

The room fell into an uneasy silence. The kind of silence that suffocated even the air itself. Everyone waited, tense, prepared for the explosion.

"I see." Izzy leaned back in her chair, her fingers still tapping against the coffee mug. Her eyes never left Kyle. For a moment, it looked as though nothing was happening, but the weight of her stare pressed into everyone's chest. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she spoke again. "What are you gonna do about it?"

Her question wasn't an invitation for an answer; it was an expectation. She was testing them.

One of the senior managers, a man with a soft voice that hadn't quite hardened into the steel it needed, cleared his throat and gave an answer that could barely be called a solution. "We've reached out to the local customs office to expedite the process. If we offer to pay the extra fees, we should be able to get the shipment in within...like, uh, 48 hours."

Izzy's eyebrow arched. Her smile-if it could be called that-was the kind that made people uncomfortable. It was sarcasm wrapped in a thin veil of politeness. "Well, isn't that just clever," she said, picking up a piece of paper, flipping it over slowly. "You're telling me that the best you've come up with is paying off some local desk jockeys to get us our diamonds on time? Are you sure you're qualified to work here?"

The man, who had started to hope that he'd managed to save his skin, froze.

"You," she continued, turning her attention to another one. "I read your resume. Top of your class at NYU, brilliant track record in logistics, blah, blah, blah. Your achievements? Impressive. Really. I can almost see the medals you've given yourself... here you are."

The employee smiled, thinking he was about to be praised. But Isabelle chuckled, a low, mocking sound that made him shrink in his seat.

"You know what this all tells me?" she asked, tossing the paper down on the table with a snap. "The fact that you're still here, breathing my air and wasting my time is proof that evolution has its blind spots. Darwin must be rolling over in his grave with secondhand embarrassment."

The room was dead silent. No one breathed. The mockery in her tone stung, but no one dared speak.

Izzy leaned forward, eyes scanning the faces of her employees. "You're all dismissed," she said, without any emotion, just the finality of an executioner's blade. She didn't wait for anyone to respond, and no one dared. They shuffled out of the room, quick and silent.

As the last person closed the door behind them, Izzy sat alone for a moment, eyes back on the papers in front of her. The room, though empty, felt as if the walls were closing in. It was still too early for her to let up. There was too much to do, too much work left.

The office phone buzzed, interrupting her thoughts. It was her secretary, a quiet man who knew better than to speak unless spoken to.

"Ms. Roy," he said, his voice as neutral as ever, "Your father has requested your presence for his party tonight. The guard will be escorting you to make sure you attend."

Izzy didn't look up immediately, and for a split second, she considered ignoring the call entirely. But then she exhaled through her nose, muttering a curse word under her breath.

"Tell whoever called that I have work to do and I can't come in," she replied, finally meeting the secretary's gaze, the brief flicker of irritation flashing before she quelled it. "And tell them, my father es[ecially, to stop treating me like a fucking employee or package. If Logan wants me at his little party, he can get me when I finish here."

The secretary hesitated but didn't speak.

"And send the guard to whatever gilded cage he's hiding in. I'll be there when I'm ready."

With a quick nod, the secretary exited, leaving her to her silence once more. Isabelle stared out the window, watching as the world outside continued, unaware of the empire that was being built and destroyed with a single look. She had work to do.

--------------------

The elevator doors opened with a soft ding, and Logan Roy stepped into the room. The group had been waiting by the elevator, a carefully choreographed surprise for his birthday. The faces of his children and associates brightened as they collectively shouted, "Surprise!" The enthusiasm was loud, but the energy seemed to fizzle out the moment Logan walked in, his expression impassive as ever.

"Great. Excellent. Wonderful," Logan muttered, not bothering to even smile. He moved through the crowd, his steps measured, like a man accustomed to being the center of attention but never bothered by the pretense of it.

He gestured to Craig, who had followed him into the room, like an afterthought. "Go ahead. Go ahead," Logan said curtly, directing him to do whatever it was that needed to be done. His eyes barely moved toward the others as he acknowledged their attempts to greet him.

"Hi. Hi. OK. OK. Give me room. Give me room. Thank you. Thank you. What a surprise," Logan added, his tone still flat, his focus now shifting back to the small group of family and employees standing before him. The look of forced excitement around him seemed to mean nothing.

He leaned toward Marcia, who had been standing quietly by his side. "What did I say?" Logan asked, his voice low and sharp. "I said nobody by the elevator. And what do I find? Everybody's by the elevator."

It's a surprise" she replied.

"Oh, a surprise," he added, the sarcasm dripping from his words. Marcia didn't have a chance to reply before Logan's attention shifted to his oldest son, Connor.

"Connor, Primo! How are you?" Logan greeted his firstborn, his voice warming ever so slightly.

Connor, ever awkward in these moments, stepped forward with a gift in hand. "Good. Excellent, Pa. Here you go," he said, extending it toward Logan with a hopeful smile.

Logan didn't even look at the gift, not bothering to take it from Connor's outstretched hand. "Ah," he said dismissively, his gaze already shifting away.

Connor stood there, awkwardly holding the gift, unsure of what to do next as Logan moved on, focusing now on Roman.

"Roman! Romulus! Look at you! You look fantastic!" Logan exclaimed, his voice lighter this time, though his affection for Roman was always a bit more tangible. Roman grinned and stepped forward, wrapping his father in a quick, familiar hug.

"Yeah, of course. Happy birthday," Roman said with a casual air, but there was no mistaking the affection between them.

Logan clapped him on the back, a bit longer than necessary, before his attention was diverted again. His gaze shifted to his only daughter, Siobhan, who was standing by Tom.

"Siobhan. Sweetheart," Logan greeted her with a tone that didn't quite match the warmth he had shown Roman but was still softer than his usual indifference.

"Happy birthday," Siobhan said, her voice genuine but with a hint of the ever-present tension that lingered in their relationship.

Logan nodded in acknowledgment. "Where's Tom?"

Siobhan gestured beside her. "He's here. He's just there."

"Well, never mind," Logan replied, dismissing Tom without so much as a second glance. The brief acknowledgment was typical of Logan's way of dealing with his...He didn't even know what he was-He just asked for show.

Logan then remembered someone else. He turned and briefly scanned the room before a realization hit him.

"Oh, oh, oh, oh. Everybody, this is... Craig, by the way. Cousin Craig," Logan said, gesturing to Greg, who had been trying to fade into the background. Everyone paused, confused by the new addition.

"Craig?" Siobhan asked, a quizzical tone in her voice. "It's Greg. N-No?"

Greg, fumbling with his words, quickly corrected himself. "Yeah, Greg. People sometimes, like, mistakenly call me Craig, too, so I'll answer to both."

The room froze for a second, the awkwardness hanging in the air. But before anyone could react further, the elevator dinged again, and Kendall stepped out.

"Kendall? You came?" Logan asked, his expression unreadable but his voice still carrying that familiar lack of surprise.

"Yeah, of course," Kendall said, his voice stiff. He made his way over to Logan and tried for a hug.

"Happy birthday, Dad," Kendall said, forcing a smile.

Logan gave a quick, almost reflexive hug back. "Uh-huh," he muttered in response.

Kendall's attempt at warmth was quickly forgotten as Logan turned his attention back to the others. "Where is your sister?" Logan asked, his gaze scanning the crowd for his youngest daughter, Isabelle.

Kendall didn't immediately answer, but instead went in for a quick kiss on the cheek with Marcia. "Hey, Marcy," he said, his tone flat but polite.

Marcia kissed him back, her smile cool. "Hi, Kendall. How are you?"

Siobhan leaned in toward Kendall, a sly grin forming on her face as she whispered in his ear, "Big day. Congratulations... you bastard."

"Congratulations. Good luck," Connor added with forced cheer, though his words lacked any real warmth.

"Thanks," Kendall muttered, his voice almost absent, as though the conversation had already lost meaning for him.

Roman slapped Kendall on the back. "Hey. Hey, Kendall. How's it goin'?"

Logan, now done with the pleasantries, cut through the chatter. "So! What's the news?" he asked, his voice commanding.

Kendall, clearly distracted, responded quickly. "Yeah, good, good. We're at the one-yard line."

Suddenly, Kendall's phone buzzed. He glanced at it and sighed. "I'm just gonna... This is important. Uh, sorry, guys, I'll be right back." Without waiting for a response, Kendall excused himself and walked off, leaving the rest of the room in a brief silence.

Logan looked around, his attention immediately turning back to the absence of his youngest child. "Where the fuck is Izzy?" he muttered, louder this time.

"What's the matter with her?" Logan demanded, addressing Marcia, then turning to his children. "Did anyone pick her up? Did I not tell someone to pick her up? Did the bodyguard get her?"

Siobhan glanced around, finally replying. "Uh...yeah, she'll be here shortly. I texted her"

That was a lie. The sisters didn't talk much, not even at all. Shiv wasn't even sure she had Izzy's number saved.

"Well, get her here," Logan snapped, his patience waning. "What's the hold-up?"

Roman shrugged nonchalantly, clearly unconcerned. "Maybe she's caught in traffic or something."

Logan's eyes narrowed. "I don't care about traffic. Get her here, now," he growled, his frustration building.

"I'll check with the guards," Siobhan said, her calm demeanor never faltering.

Logan shot her a look, not quite satisfied but realizing there wasn't much more to do in front of everyone. "Now." he muttered under his breath, his eyes darting to the door, already impatient.

The room was awkwardly quiet, and no one dared to speak further. Logan wasn't concerned with the party anymore. He was...pissed? Who knows, his face was hard to read. Not because he was good at hiding his...whatever he was feeling -Not really sure if that man felt anything- but because he was old. I mean, hello? The man was turning eighty.

--------------------

Izzy entered the room with the same quiet confidence that seemed to demand attention without asking for it. The moment she walked through the door, the energy shifted, though she wasn't one to make a spectacle of herself. Her eyes briefly scanned the room, taking stock of the familiar faces, but she was always careful not to give too much away. There was no need for grand gestures; she didn't have to impress anyone. She was already at the top.

Connor, ever eager to play the part of the good son, was the first to approach her. "Hey, Izzy," he said, holding out a gift with a forced smile.

Izzy glanced at him, barely acknowledging his gesture. "Connor," she greeted him coolly, nodding slightly, but her body language said everything. She accepted the hug out of obligation, though it lasted no more than a second before she pulled away, her hands already moving to something else.

The awkwardness hung in the air as Connor stood there, gift in hand, unsure of how to proceed. But Izzy was already moving on.

Roman caught her eye next, a grin on his face. "Well, well, well, the queen graces us with her presence," he said, stepping forward and opening his arms for a hug.

Izzy didn't miss a beat. She looked him up and down, her expression unreadable. "Roman, what the hell do you do to your hair? It looks like you rubbed a horse's ass in it," she remarked dryly. Her voice didn't carry the warmth of familial affection; it was more like a statement of fact.

Roman smirked, completely unbothered by her remark. "Well, I'd rather have a mane than look like I've been dragged through a hedge backwards," he shot back, his eyes twinkling with mischief. But there was no genuine warmth in his response either.

Izzy turned her attention to Siobhan, who stood a few feet away, arms crossed in a posture that read somewhere between disdain and curiosity.

"Siobhan," Izzy greeted, her voice neutral. She didn't move to embrace her, just a brief nod of acknowledgment, as if they were two colleagues exchanging pleasantries.

"Did you bring a gift, Isabelle?" Siobhan asked, her tone sweet but she was hoping to catch her sister off guard.

Izzy glanced at her blankly for a moment before responding with the same deadpan delivery. "I am the gift." Her voice was flat, lacking even the slightest trace of humor or sincerity.

Siobhan raised an eyebrow. "Right," she muttered, clearly unimpressed. "How fucking humble."

Izzy barely acknowledged the comment, her gaze already darting over to Tom, who was hovering nearby, looking like a puppy waiting for a scrap. He quickly straightened up when he saw her, trying to appear more important than he really was.

" Izz-I mean, Ms. Roy," Tom said, his voice overly polite, almost servile. He smiled at her with an enthusiasm that felt out of place, he was trying too hard, like he always did with Logan.

Izzy raised her eyebrows, giving him a glance that said everything without words. Tom tried harder than ever. "Just, you know, trying to show my respect. You and uh, your father, really. You two-" He faltered when he saw her uninterested gaze. "Well, I just want to say it's great to see you," he finished lamely.

Izzy didn't answer, her focus already shifting. But she could see the desperation in his eyes, the subtle way he tried to angle himself into her good graces, hoping it would lead to something with Logan. It was all the same game.

But when her eyes landed on Greg, a flicker of amusement passed over her face, quickly followed by a sharp, judgmental stare.

"Who the fuck is that?" she asked, her voice loud enough for everyone to hear. Her gaze was cold as she scanned him from head to toe.

Greg, caught off guard, straightened up nervously. "Hi-Uh, I'm Greg. I-I'm uh, your cous-"

Izzy didn't flinch, didn't even give him a second of her attention. She simply turned her back on him and moved on, her disinterest obvious.

Roman, noticing the awkwardness between Greg and Izzy, leaned toward him with a grin. "Pro tip. Don't talk to her unless she talks to you first. And even then, don't expect much."

Tom added, "Yeah, she's not really one for small talk. Don't get your hopes up."

Izzy didn't hear their exchange, her eyes already searching for her father. Logan, seeing her approach, straightened up slightly.

"Izzy," Logan said, his tone shifting just a little. It was a familiar greeting, but there was a sharpness to it as always. "Where the fuck were you?"

Izzy stopped in front of him, looking him over with her usual indifference. "Had a couple things to take care of-" she replied, her voice casual.

Logan nodded, not pressing further. " -Where's Charles?" he asked, his gaze flickering around the room.

Izzy shrugged, though the gesture seemed dismissive. "He's handling something," she replied smoothly. "He'll be here soon."

Logan didn't push her further, though there was a hint of frustration behind his eyes. "Well, I need to talk to you," he said. His voice shifted into something more serious, the business tone that always followed when Logan's agenda needed to be carried out.

Izzy didn't argue. "Yeah, I know."

Logan, not wanting to waste any time, turned to the rest of the room. "Kids! Can you give me two minutes?" he called out, his voice commanding. His children, as usual, quickly responded, moving to the other room without hesitation.

Izzy, on the other hand, didn't wait. She started walking toward the other room, her pace unhurried, but determined.

As she moved past Greg, she didn't even look at him. Logan, however, was briefly delayed when Greg stepped forward to say something to him.