Logan walked into the room with his usual air of authority, the door clicking shut behind him with finality. The conversation that had been brewing between the siblings instantly dissolved into nothing, replaced by the heavy weight of their father's presence. Kendall, who had been about to speak, froze, his words hanging in the air. Roman, still sprawled out in his chair, raised an eyebrow. Connor, as always, was disengaged, his eyes still fixed on the papers in front of him. Shiv, ever the keen observer, waited for Logan to speak.

"What's the deal?" Roman asked, his tone light, trying to push through the tension.

Shiv smirked, her sarcasm already on full display. "He's going to reveal his hotline to his lizard overlords."

The room fell silent. Logan looked at them, stone-faced, and then closed the door behind him with a soft but deliberate thud. The energy shifted—this was no longer a conversation between siblings, but a meeting with their father at the helm.

"You haven't been robbing the pension fund, have you?" Connor asked, his voice light, trying to defuse the obvious tension, but still on edge.

"Dad, are you trans?" Shiv added, her grin never fading, though her eyes gleamed with mischief.

Logan's gaze briefly flickered to Izzy, seated near the window. "What?" he asked, his confusion evident.

Izzy, her face blank and unreadable, didn't miss a beat. "Don't look at me. I don't know what she's talking about."

Shiv, unperturbed, chimed in, her voice dripping with amusement. "He's bi-curious. The homophobia is classic diversionary shit."

Izzy didn't even flinch. She made a face, but the sharp edge of her expression said it all—she wasn't interested in this diversion. 

Logan finally dismissed it all with a grunt, clearly not wanting to engage further. "Er—yeah, yeah, fuck off. So." He took a breath and then dropped the bomb. "On the family trust, that will decide the succession in the event of my unlikely demise. I'm going to add Marcia to myself, you all, Frank, and my brother."

The words hit the room like a punch. Shiv's brow furrowed, her mind immediately racing. "Whoa? Okay?"

Izzy, who had been watching Logan carefully, didn't hide her confusion. "The fuck?" she muttered, disbelief clear in her voice.

"Marcia?" Roman repeated, equally stunned, looking around at the others. He couldn't believe his ears.

Logan pressed on, unfazed by their reactions. "And my seat also to go to her on my death—"

Shiv, always quick to catch on, narrowed her eyes, piecing it together. Izzy, however, was still trying to wrap her mind around it. She turned toward Logan, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Uh... okay? Well, if, if... basically what you're saying is that you will..."

Shiv cut in, finishing Izzy's thought. "...Give her, double weight?"

Logan nodded, seemingly pleased by their understanding. "Uh-huh. So I've got the paperwork for—"

Kendall, still processing, looked at the papers in front of him, his confusion turning into something more like shock. "What, so, Marcia will have two votes when you—"

Roman cut in "If..."

"Shut the fuck up." 

Logan handed out three sets of legal papers. Kendall leafed through them, but he was clearly struggling to make sense of the new terms.

Roman, clearly not enjoying the public scolding, shot her an irritated glance. Kendall then returned to the papers, his face reddening. "Two? Two votes—when—Er, I don't think I was aware of that when I—"

Izzy, watching her brother's fumbling, couldn't hold back her disdain. She clapped her hands mockingly, the sound echoing through the room. "Way to go, you fucking moron," she said.

Roman couldn't help himself. "Read the small print, asshole!" he said, his usual irreverence still intact, even in the face of their father's announcement.

Shiv and Izzy exchanged glances, neither one looking particularly thrilled by what they were seeing. Izzy, after a long pause, broke the silence. "This looks—yeah. But I might need to talk to, you know, for all the implications?"

Roman scanned the documents, his expression slightly more serious now. "Likewise," he muttered, glancing at Logan.

Shiv, ever the strategist, nodded. "Me too."

Logan, sensing their hesitation, waved it off with the ease of someone used to getting his way. "Of course. I understand," he said smoothly, leaning back in his chair. "Take a beat. By four PM will be fine."

The room grew quieter as the weight of Logan's words sunk in. Logan didn't seem to notice or care, his voice taking on a more casual tone. "It's my birthday, by the way. This is a present. A great deal for all of you."

The siblings were momentarily disoriented, the casualness of Logan's words clashing with the gravity of what he'd just laid on them. 

Logan wasn't done yet, though. "And also, just to reiterate something I mentioned to Kendall," he added, casting a glance toward his son. "Despite the chatter and all things considered, I'm going to give it a couple of years."

Izzy didn't even bother trying to hide her amusement. "And by that you mean...?"

Logan's answer came without hesitation. "I'll stay in situ. As chairman and head of the firm."

Kendall's eyes widened, his anger starting to flare. "What?"

Logan, his expression not changing, turned to him with a slightly patronizing look. "I just said it, son. Or were you not listening as usual?"

Kendall, now visibly frustrated, tried to regain some control. "But—I'm, you're not—"

Logan waved him off, uninterested in his son's protest. "No big deal. I'm just staying on. We can discuss the details later."

Kendall, now unable to contain his anger, snapped, "You didn't tell me. You didn't tell anyone!"

Logan's tone turned cold. "We can announce to the board that you're in pole position. Pending events."

The room went silent for a moment, and the tension could be cut with a knife. Roman and Shiv exchanged a look, clearly unsettled but not entirely against the idea of Logan staying in power for a couple of years. Izzy, on the other hand, tried to hide a chuckle. It wasn't that she was amused—it was more that she was watching Logan's moves, and it was almost impressive how predictable he was. He was always going to be the one in control.

Logan turned toward Izzy, a silent challenge in his eyes. "Bella, my darling," he said, using the nickname he'd always used for her. "Don't disappoint me, okay?"

Izzy held his gaze, unblinking, her face unreadable. She didn't respond, which seemed to irritate Logan even more. He tapped her cheek lightly with a forced tenderness. "Okay?"

Izzy, replied with a single word. "Okay."

Logan, his dominance firmly in place, stood and began heading toward the door. "Okay, lunch!" he announced, his voice filled with finality.

As Logan exited, the room was left in stunned silence. The siblings processed what had just transpired. Roman, ever the joker, was the first to break the silence.

"Oh fuck!!!" he muttered, though it was more a nervous reaction than an actual laugh.

Kendall, still fuming, glared at him. "Well, I don't know what you're fucking laughing about!"

Roman, trying to stifle his grin, shrugged. "I'm not even laughing—what?"

Kendall's frustration reached its peak. "This is going to be a shit-storm. He's going to blow the firm's credibility." He paused, then switched gears. "Did he look okay by you?"

Shiv, who had been observing quietly, sighed. "Oh, come on, Ken. This is typical."

Connor, tired of the drama, stood up and made his way to the door. "I'm out. Okay, I'm not playing. Whatever you four say—goes. Goodbye!"

As Connor reached the door, Izzy called out, her voice sharp. "Conny!"

Connor paused but didn't turn around. "On the trust, I refuse to play. I'll sign or not—whatever you want."

Shiv, ever the strategist, nodded. "Well, it needs to be unanimous, right? And Kendall's signed?"

Izzy, annoyed by the whole situation, reached over and hit Kendall lightly on the back of his head, her face a mix of amusement and frustration. "Bravo."

Connor, still uninterested, shrugged and left. "If it is, it is. I'm water, I flow. I do not want to engage."

Kendall, his frustration mounting, turned to face them. "Look, no—first—are you all okay with him tearing up an announcement that has been—"

Izzy, unfazed, simply shrugged.

Kendall, not liking her indifference, snapped. "Oh fucking shrug, that's right. Fucking shrug me..."

Shiv, trying to defuse the situation, spoke up. "Kendall, it's just Dad—"

But Kendall, his temper at its limit, stormed out of the room, leaving his siblings behind. 

The office felt empty after everyone else had left. The air between Shiv and Izzy was weird, but neither spoke. Izzy, gathering her papers with deliberate slowness, moved toward the door. She wasn't in any rush, not for this—definitely not for anything Logan had to offer either.

As she reached for the handle, Shiv's voice broke the silence. " Are you going to sign it?"

Izzy paused, her fingers grazing the door handle. She turned slightly, looking over her shoulder. Her expression was unreadable, she looked around the room for a moment. She pointed a finger at herself as if to say, Are you talking to me? Her smirk didn't help the situation—it was almost mocking.

"No, I'm talking to that big-headed bitch behind you," Shiv snapped, her irritation obvious. "What the—" she sighs.

At that moment, they heard Roman's voice from the hallway. "Bitch." It was lazy, flippant, but there was a certain bite to it that could only belong to Roman, heading toward wherever Marcia had called him.

Shiv glared after him, clearly annoyed, and then turned back to Izzy. Her patience was wearing thin. "So... what is it gonna be."

Izzy's gaze lingered on the door for a second longer, before she finally stepped back, her expression softening—just slightly. But there was something unsettling about how quickly she regained her composure. It wasn't that she didn't want to sign it. The truth was, she didn't know if she was going to. It wasn't about needing approval, or wanting to play nice. Izzy wasn't desperate for anything. She was already rich. Like, crazy rich. She a CEO of the jewelry business she had built herself. She didn't need Logan's trust to hold sway over her life. She had power, influence, beauty. 

She was Logan's favorite—had always been.

But then again, she wasn't blind. When you had something great, you always wanted something greater. Right?

Right?

Izzy turned back toward Shiv, her voice casual. "Why not, it's not like it's really gonna affect me so—"

Shiv's eyes flashed with frustration. "Yeah, okay, I forgot I was talking to daddy's little lapdog. You've been so busy kissing his ass, you probably don't even know how to think of anyone but yourself."

Izzy's smile only grew. "Well, at least I don't fuck politicians for a living."

The tension in the room escalated instantly. Shiv opened her mouth to retort, but before she could, the sound of high heels clicking down the hallway stopped them both in their tracks. The moment of impending confrontation was broken as Marcia appeared at the door, her presence as commanding as ever.

"Girls It's time for lunch," Marcia announced, her voice smooth.

Izzy raised an eyebrow, almost relieved that the tension had been interrupted, though she couldn't hide the satisfaction from her face. Shiv stood there, silent for a moment, before exhaling sharply, her eyes narrowing at Izzy.

Izzy, without missing a beat, walked toward the door, leaving Shiv to stew in the silence that followed. Not before blowing her a kiss of course. She wasn't afraid of confrontation. She wasn't afraid of anything. In fact, it was clear: in a world of power plays, Isabelle Roy was someone you didn't want to cross.

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

Izzy had seen enough of Logan and Kendall monopolizing the room. It was typical. She couldn't stand the same recycled arguments, the same power struggle played out with Logan constantly making sure Kendall knew he wasn't good enough, and Kendall trying, desperately, to prove he was. She decided to slip away and find some peace. A break from all the noise.

The bathroom was a temporary sanctuary. It wasn't glamorous – it was absolutely glamorous, she just did not wanna say it –, but it was quiet. She finished peeing and leaned against the cool bathroom wall, magazine in hand, flipping through the pages idly. Time was crawling, and she needed something to fill the silence. The cigarette was the perfect solution—something to do with her hands, something to pass the time.

She lit it, took a drag, and immediately regretted not thinking this through. She wasn't sure why she even thought she could sneak a smoke in peace. The footsteps outside made her panic just enough to throw the cigarette out the window. Not that it really mattered. She was caught.

In a split second, her plan was to hide. She stepped behind the shower curtain, her heart pounding with the rush of doing something stupid. Maybe it was a little childish. But she wasn't known for making the best decisions under her father's roof. She peeked out, trying to assess who had entered.

It was Kendall.

He was standing there, breaking things—first the cotton swabs, snapping them in half with a frustrated squeeze of his fingers. Then, as if the sight of them wasn't enough, he ripped a magazine in half, throwing the pieces around like they meant nothing. His movements were erratic, frantic—exactly like someone spiraling.

Izzy didn't know whether to stay or leave. Was this a moment where she should make herself scarce or step in? It was getting awkward, and awkward was something she never handled well. Kendall kept going, his hands shaking as he picked up another object and smashed it on the counter. That was when she decided it was time to make her presence known.

She turned on the water, hoping the steam might cover up the smell of the smoke, though she wasn't sure if it would help. It wasn't like she cared about the smell, anyway. As she stepped out, Kendall's head snapped toward her, his face a mix of surprise and confusion.

"Are you on drugs?" she asked. It was blunt—no sugarcoating, no beating around the bush. Just straightforward.

Kendall blinked at her, clearly not expecting her to ask him that. "What?"

Izzy didn't miss a beat. "Was I not clear? I'm asking you if you relapsed."

Kendall's face twisted with disbelief, like he couldn't quite process what she was saying. He ran a hand through his hair, his frustration mounting. "What? No. Wh—why the fuck would you ask me that?"

Izzy gave him a long, flat look. "I'm sorry," she said, her tone almost sarcastic, "but you've got this... whole manic vibe going on. Just wondering."

Kendall's shoulders stiffened, his face reddening as he responded, "You should know it's triggering to ask these kinds of questions to... people like me."

Izzy tilted her head, considering his words. "You mean addicts?" she deadpanned, not even flinching.

Kendall paused. The words stung more than he wanted to admit, but Izzy wasn't concerned with his feelings—she was concerned with getting out of this ridiculous moment. He stared at her, almost in shock, but she raised her hand in a mock surrender. She didn't want to fight him; she just wanted him to leave.

She looked at the mess around him, and for the first time in a while, a moment of clarity hit her. "Get out," she said, her tone flat, as if she was already done with the scene.

Kendall blinked, his confusion and embarrassment written all over his face. "Uh—what? I'm sorry—"

Izzy cut him off, her tone sharper this time, almost dismissive. "Are you doing this on purpose?"

He shook his head.

She continued, " I'm tryna help you here, buddy."

Kendall looked at her like she was speaking a different language. His face was pinched with frustration, not sure whether to be offended or relieved. Izzy sighed, shook her head, and then offered him a rare piece of kindness, almost as if she wasn't herself for just a second. "I'll clean up for you. Go before Dad starts asking questions."

It was rare for her—this willingness to help someone without any strings attached, without any hidden agenda. Simple as that. But it made sense, didn't it? Shiv had Roman, and Izzy had Kendall. They were somewhat alike. They both craved power, craved to be the top of the food chain. The only difference was that Izzy wasn't afraid to be a killer to get there. Kendall, on the other hand, was still chasing his father's approval. He couldn't break free from Logan's grip, not the way she could.

And that was the difference. Kendall was looking for validation. Izzy didn't need anyone's validation. She didn't need Logan, and she didn't need Kendall. She just wanted to be on top.

But was that all she wanted? Wasn't there something missing? Something that Kendall had—someone to make proud? That feeling of not having someone to look at you and think, Wow. I'm proud of them. Wasn't that what every person really wanted, deep down? The trouble was, she didn't need to make anyone proud, not really. She couldn't...or she wouldn't. I guess we'll never know.

You're probably thinking, what about Charles?

Charles was different. She loved him with every fiber of her being. And he loved her in return. But his love was unconditional—too unconditional, maybe. She could kill someone and he'd still look at people and say, "She had a bad day. I'm sorry, forgive her." That was the kind of love he gave her. And he would. He would swap places with her in a heartbeat if it meant she didn't have to suffer. It was all too easy, too perfect.

She never had to fight for it.

It was a privilege she didn't take for granted, but still... wasn't there something missing? Something more than just the endless support?

Kendall, still not fully understanding the situation, finally spoke. "Thank you, but are you sure—"

Izzy, crouching down to pick up the debris scattered around, tossed him a look over her shoulder. "Go before I change my mind."

Kendall, still looking dazed, nodded and walked toward the door. Izzy heard him enter the dining room, and for a moment, the quiet lingered in the air.

She finished cleaning up and took one last deep breath before stepping into the hall. That was when she saw Charles by the elevator. His presence immediately put her at ease. He'd just arrived from the elevator, and the relief was palpable.

"Took your time, huh?" Izzy teased, a soft smile curling on her lips.

Charles leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. "I'm sorry, darling. The meeting ran longer than expected."

Izzy shrugged, unfazed. "It's fine. I'm just glad you're here. These people are driving me cra—"

Before she could finish, Roman's voice echoed through the hall from the dining room. "Uh, hello? We're waiting for you. C'mon, move your asses."

Izzy shot Charles a playful, exasperated look before heading toward the dining room.

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

Lunch passed by faster than Izzy had expected. Everyone was seated, eating, and talking, and Frank—well, Frank was being Frank, standing up to give a speech that Izzy could only describe as painfully long. She rolled her eyes more than once, and it wasn't just because Frank had a habit of going on and on without really saying much of anything. It was the usual monotony of the Roy family dynamic. They were all there, existing in this weird, out-of-place bubble that was technically a family gathering but felt more like a business meeting than anything else.

And then, as always, Logan shifted the mood. "Alright," he announced, the entire room hanging on his every word. "It's time to play the game."

Some faces lit up. Others—well, not so much. For example, Greg. The poor kid didn't even know what was going on. Izzy glanced over at him as he repeatedly asked, "What game?" in that clueless way of his, hoping someone would fill him in. But, predictably, he was ignored.

Izzy's eyes met Greg's for a split second, and he froze, like a deer caught in headlights. His gaze lingered on her for too long. What was it about her that unsettled him so much? Was it the fact that she looked just like her father, with the same piercing blue eyes, the same unreadable face, and—oh, right—huge tits? He didn't say it, but it was there, the thought lingering in his head. 

She could practically see it written across his face. But, honestly, she didn't care enough to address it. Greg was just another lost soul in this twisted family, trying to make sense of it all.

As the family made their way downstairs, the chatter and bustle from the game slowly faded as they each piled into their respective cars. Izzy, walking behind her father, Logan, paused for a moment to hug him before getting into her own vehicle. As they hugged, Logan leaned in, his voice low and quick, like a passing whisper.

"Take him with you."

Izzy pulled back, eyebrows raised in confusion. "Who?"

"Craig," Logan muttered, barely glancing at her.

Izzy stood there for a second. She wasn't about to deal with that today. "Uh-uh, no way. You brought him here, you deal with him," she shot back, already starting to walk toward her car.

Logan wasn't one to back down easily. He called after her, his voice still smooth but insistent. "Bell—"

Izzy, already opening the door to her car, tossed a quick, dismissive wave over her shoulder. "Gotta go, gotta go, gotta go, Dad." She slammed the door shut, not giving him a chance to argue further. She wasn't about to play babysitting for someone else's mistake.

Anyway, the game wasn't even normal. Of course not. The Roy family didn't do "normal." They all piled into their private cars, driven out to Logan's private hangar. Helicopters would take them to a private baseball field, a field that was maintained year-round by groundskeepers who likely thought they were working for a completely different world.

Izzy and Charles hopped into their helicopter, as planned. Izzy was chatting with Grace, Roman's girlfriend, when he suddenly called Roman, Shiv, and her to talk about the trust.

"So, what are you thinking?" Kendall started, glancing at Shiv, Roman, and Izzy like he expected them to fall in line. "We say no, all of us, on the trust. Full block. We say: stability. Stick to the plan. I take over, and we just—you know, you guys, under me, co-president, top execs."

Shiv raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "Under you?"

"Uh-huh. But... you know, four. The power of four?" Kendall responded, his tone almost desperate for approval.

Izzy, leaning back with an almost amused look, responded with a simple, "Interesting."

Roman, not even pretending to care, shrugged. "Can we think about it?"

Kendall immediately jumped in. "Of course."

Roman, rolling his eyes, then shot back, "Yeah, I thought about it. Fuck you." With that, Roman walked off, Shiv laughing as she followed.

Kendall watched them leave, looking a little deflated, but as he turned to Izzy for some kind of validation, he was interrupted by a call. Izzy, thankfully, had an excuse to escape.

"I–I gotta take this," she said, pointing at her phone. With that, she stepped away, leaving Kendall to stew in his half-baked ideas.

The game was, of course, a disaster. Kendall, trying to redeem himself, swung at a pitch from Grace, hitting the ball solidly. He was about to take off running when his phone buzzed from his jacket pocket.

"Hold up, hang on, hang on," Kendall muttered, clearly annoyed, as he tugged the phone out of his jacket. His movements were stiff, like he couldn't decide if he should be playing or answering the damn phone. Roman, already on the sidelines, was less than impressed. 

He was really fucking annoyed.

"Boo!" Roman shouted from second base. "Boo! Honey, boo him!"

Isla, who was nearby, joined in with a mockingly loud, "Boo!"

Kendall tried to play it cool. "Sorry, I gotta run. It's the crunch," he muttered as he looked around. "Frank, will you be link man here?"

"Uh-huh," Frank replied, hardly looking up.

Kendall turned to Logan. "Dad?"

"Of course," Logan answered without even looking at him, his voice full of the indifference Kendall hated.

As Kendall moved toward his kids, Roman, who had been watching from second base, continued his protests. "Well, if Kendall's going, we need one more to make it fair!" he shouted. He pointed to the groundskeeper's son, who had been sitting on the sidelines, not entirely sure what he was supposed to do. "Uh... hello! Kid! Yeah, you. You. You wanna play?"

The boy stared at Roman, looking confused. Roman called out to his father. "Dad, can he play?"

The groundskeeper gave his son a gentle nudge. "Sure," he said.

Roman, with a flourish, turned to the kid. "Thank you, Dad!" he called out, and the boy reluctantly stepped up to bat. His nerves were obvious—he missed the first pitch, his body trembling slightly.

"That's high," Roman called from second base. "You're gonna be fine. Relax, don't worry about it. Can you hit a ball?"

The kid nodded. "Yeah."

"Great," Roman grinned, "because I'll give you one million dollars if you hit a home run. I'm dead serious, okay?"

"For— for real?" the boy asked, his eyes wide with disbelief.

Roman didn't miss a beat. "Yes, for real. A million dollars. Honey, where's the...?" He mimed writing a check.

Grace, still standing by the sidelines, didn't seem to know what to make of it. Colin, Logan's personal security guard, was trying to calm the kid's nerves. Roman was already busy scribbling on the check, fully committed to his bet.

"I don't know why you're smiling," Roman said to the boy. "I am dead serious. One million dollars, cash, for a home fucking run."

"Rome, don't be an asshole!" Shiv yelled, watching from third base.

"I'm not being an asshole!" Roman shot back. "I want him incentivized. This is fun! It's a game, jeez. Stop being so serious." He presented the check with a grand gesture, giving the kid one last pep talk. "Good luck. I believe in you."

The kid adjusted his grip, clearly trying to steady himself, and took the pitch. He swung, and there was contact.

"That's a hit!" Roman shouted. "That's a damn hit!"

The boy started running the bases, but as he rounded third, Tom was ready. The ball came in fast, and Tom tagged him out just before he could slide into home.

"No!" Roman screamed, his voice full of disbelief. "No!"

Tom, standing over the boy with the ball in his glove, shrugged. "Bad luck, kid."

Roman's face fell, but he tried to recover quickly. "Oh, no! You were so damn close! That was so close!" he said, walking over to the kid, who had a weak smile on his face.

Roman handed the kid the check. "That was almost a home run. But hey, here's a quarter million." He ripped up the original check with a flourish and handed a torn piece of it to the kid. "Enjoy."

As the day came to an end, everyone started heading back to the helicopters. Logan had insisted his kids fly with him, but, of course, Kendall couldn't join because of work. Izzy and Charles were in their own helicopter, both busy with their own affairs.

Before she left, though, she walked up to the boy, who was still standing awkwardly on the field. She handed him the Patek Philippe watch, the one Tom had offered Logan earlier. "From my dad," she said, her voice deadpan as always.