Kendall sat behind his desk, leaning forward, elbows on the wood, his fingers threading through his hair before he let out a sharp breath. His foot tapped lightly against the floor, a habit that had nothing to do with nerves and everything to do with the way his mind moved-always onto the next thing before the first one was even finished.

His desk was covered in notes, scribbled-down numbers, printouts of board members' projected votes, half a dozen calls he needed to return. His laptop was still open, email inbox cluttered with messages that he couldn't afford to care about right now. Next to it, a glass and an unopened bottle of whiskey sat untouched. The night before the vote, and everything had to be right.

Across from him, Izzy sat in the chair, her legs crossed, her phone resting on her lap. She wasn't looking at it, though. She was watching him, waiting, letting him go through whatever internal monologue he needed before he started talking.

It had always been like this between them-Kendall filling up the space, Izzy waiting for him to say something worth listening to.

"Alright," he exhaled, finally looking up, his voice clipped, the words already moving fast. "Roman's with Lawrence right now. They're having dinner. He's working him, hyping him up, making him feel like he's the smartest fucking guy in the room. So, unless Roman fucks it up, which-he might, because he's fucking Roman-we should be good there."

Izzy nodded slowly, but there was something in the way she tilted her head, like she wasn't entirely convinced. "You sure he's locked?"

Kendall looked at her, lips twitching slightly. "Yo, do you want me to pull out a contract and have him fucking sign it in blood?"

She gave him a small shrug.

He sighed, rubbing his jaw. "Yeah, I'm sure. The guy doesn't love me, but he fucking hates Dad. And right now, that's enough."

She let the answer settle, still watching him.

"Stewy's in, obviously," he continued, his foot still tapping against the floor. "Frank's in. Karl says he's in, but he's Karl, so, y'know, he'll fold like a fucking lawn chair if he gets spooked."

Izzy hummed in acknowledgment.

"And Laird?"

"With us."

She tapped her fingers against her phone, not checking it, just thinking. "What about Asha?"

"Could go either way."

"Peter?"

Kendall sighed through his nose. "If Laird holds, we can pull him over too."

"And Ilona?"

He scoffed, leaning back slightly in his chair. "The bitch has cancer. She won't be there."

Izzy blinked, not reacting. Just filing the information away.

They sat in silence for a moment, Kendall's fingers tapping lightly against the desk. Izzy studied him. He looked good, put together-his suit crisp, his hair perfect-but there was something off in his posture, something just slightly uneasy. Like he had too many moving parts in his head and was trying to keep them all in check.

She let the quiet stretch a second longer before speaking. "And so...what's up?"

Kendall frowned slightly, looking up. "What do you mean?"

She leaned back in her chair, stretching her legs out slightly, trying to be uninterested. "Y'know, what are you gonna do after? Like, uh... for example, what position would you give me?"

Kendall blinked at her, then let out a sharp laugh, shaking his head. "Isabelle, you don't even fucking work here."

She shrugged again, smooth, lazy. "Yeah, but let's say I did. Hypothetically."

Kendall scoffed. "Oh, fuck off."

She smirked, raising an eyebrow. "What?"

"You?" He gestured at her. "You like- don't even...want to work here."

Izzy let out a small, sharp laugh. "Yeah well I did, before, but Dad was so interested in fucking you that he forgot about fucking me."

"That's dark."

She smirked slightly. "Mm."

He exhaled. "Shit." He sat forward, rubbing his hands together before pressing them flat against the desk. "I don't know. We'd-we'd figure it out." He gestured vaguely, like it wasn't worth thinking about. "You want a seat? I could give you a board seat. Or something outside of this, like, uh-" He paused, narrowing his eyes at her slightly, studying her. "I don't know, co-COO?"

She hummed, as if considering it, but then shook her head. "I could be co-CEO."

"No. Uh-uh. No fucking way." He pointed at her. "You get a board seat or you can be head of, like-finance, international, something-but you are not fucking co-CEO."

She smiled, amused at how fast he shut it down.

"You wanna run the fucking cruise division?" he continued, shaking his head. "I'll hand you a sinking ship, literally."

"Uh-huh."

He breathed out. "Jesus."

She let a pause stretch between them before sitting up slightly. "What happened to the power of four?"

Kendall frowned, confused. "What?"

She gave him a smirk, tapping a finger against the arm of the chair. "You know. Your whole power of four thing. Which, wait for it..." She lifted a hand. "We could make the power of two."

Kendall stared at her for a second, then scoffed, shaking his head. "What, you wanna throw Rome out?"

Izzy tilted her head, the smile still there. Kendall leaned forward slightly, grinning. "That's new."

"I'm joking," she said smoothly.

"Yeah, sure," he muttered, still watching her.

Izzy tilted her head slightly, like she was thinking. "But we could put him in parks, since he failed in film and production."

Kendall let out a whistle, shaking his head. "Wow."

Before she could say anything else, his phone buzzed against the desk. They both looked at it. Marcia.

Kendall exhaled through his nose, rubbing a hand down his face before answering. "Hello?"

"Kendall."

"Marcia."

He put it on speaker. "I was wondering, if you're not busy, if you don't mind joining your father for dinner?" His fingers curled slightly around the phone as Izzy stayed quiet, watching.

"Did he ask to have dinner with me?"

"Yes. He's home alone, and I have something I cannot miss."

There was a pause. "Um... just him and me?"

"Yeah. Is it a bad time? Do you have something planned? Are you with someone?"

Kendall glanced at Izzy, and before he could say anything, she shook her head quickly, mouthing No.

"I'm with Izzy," he said anyway, ignoring her. "Is it okay if I bring her?"

Izzy shot him a look, shaking her head again. Marcia paused. "If she would like to come, yes."

Izzy shook her head again, more firmly this time. Kendall ignored her. "Uh, yeah, okay. And, um, I'm... I'm around."

"Thank you. I've left some steamed fish. Merci beaucoup." She hung up.

For a second, neither of them moved. Then Izzy sighed, tilting her head. "You should go."

Kendall let out a dry laugh, rubbing his face. "Why, so he can fucking gut me over dinner?"

"No. So he can look you dead in the eye and wonder why you're his son in the first place."

A beat passed, then Kendall stood, buttoning his jacket. Izzy grabbed her coat from the chair.

Kendall looked at her. "What are you doing?"

"You said I was coming," she said, pulling on her coat. He blinked, then let out a breath. "Jesus Christ." She raised an eyebrow.

He sighed, rubbing his face before gesturing toward the door. "Alright, fuck it. Let's go."

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

The elevator doors slid open, and as soon as they stepped out, Richard was waiting, hands neatly folded in front of him.

"Sir. Your father's on a call in the den," Richard said, nodding slightly toward the hallway. "He asked if you'd wait a moment."

Kendall barely reacted, nodding once as he adjusted his cuffs. "Oh, sure."

Izzy glanced at him. "Stop stressing, he doesn't know."

Kendall gave her a sharp look, but before he could say anything, his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen, then back at her, exhaling before picking up.

"Tom? Uh, hey, can this wait till tomorrow?"

Tom's voice came through, slightly breathless like he'd just rushed to the phone. "You're gonna want to hear this. Ewan is in town, and he knows, and he's come to vote."

Kendall stopped moving. His grip on the phone tightened slightly. "What?" He turned slightly away, voice lowering. "Hold... Hold on. Who's your source?"

"Uh, I can't reveal my sources. But it's Greg."

Kendall closed his eyes for half a second before exhaling sharply. "Okay. Uh, Tom, you do not breathe a word of this, okay?"

"My lips are sealed," Tom said quickly, almost eager.

Kendall forced a tight smile. "All right. Thanks, Tom. I appreciate it."

"It's not a big deal. Team Kendall."

Kendall hung up, shoving the phone back into his pocket.

Izzy, who had been watching him the whole time, lifted an eyebrow. "Okay, he definitely knows."

Kendall sighed, shaking his head. "Yeah. Fucking Greg."

Without another word, they started toward the living room.

Logan was in his usual chair, a burger in one hand, watching soccer on the flat-screen. The volume was high enough that the sound of the crowd filled the space. The smell of fast food lingered in the air, mixing with the faint scent of his aftershave.

"Thanks, Richard," Kendall said, brushing past the man before looking toward Logan. "Hey, Dad."

Izzy, who had already stepped in, leaned down, kissing Logan's cheek before taking a seat. "Hey, Daddy."

Logan barely glanced at them, chewing as he muttered, "Hey."

Kendall eyed the burger. "You shouldn't eat this shit."

Logan didn't even look at him. "You're not the boss of me."

Izzy sat back in her chair, legs crossed, but Kendall stayed where he was, hands in his pockets. Logan didn't say anything else, just kept watching the match.

Seconds passed. Then more.

Kendall cleared his throat. "Did you want to talk? Marcia said you... wanted to see me."

Logan finally turned his head slightly, his gaze falling on Izzy. "Yeah, you. Not her."

Izzy blinked, then let out a short breath, already standing. "You don't gotta tell me twice." She grabbed her coat, not even sparing a glance at Kendall as she started toward the door. "I'll see you when I see you."

Logan watched her leave, his expression unreadable. "Marcia. Yeah, she's got her own thing goin' on."

Kendall frowned slightly, taking a seat now that Izzy was gone. "What does that mean?"

Logan finally turned his full attention toward him, setting his burger down. "You know what it means. You've got your thing goin' on. I've got mine."

Kendall licked his lips slightly, shifting. "What's, uh, what's your thing?"

Logan smirked faintly. "Everybody's got something. So what's goin' on? What's the action? What's the story?"

Kendall blinked, trying to read him. "What's goin' on?"

Logan leaned back in his chair, shaking his head. "You heard about my meet? You heard it was a snub?"

Kendall hesitated, exhaling through his nose. "What? Uh... Oh. Yeah, I heard, um... I heard real security alert, but who knows. It's tough to read. I could do something about this."

His eyes flicked toward Logan's plate.

"Haven't had one of these in, uh... I don't even know."

Logan raised an eyebrow, pushing the plate slightly toward him. "You gonna eat it?"

Kendall looked at it for half a second, then reached forward, picking up a fry. "Yeah, I'm gonna eat it."

Logan nodded, satisfied. "Hey, good. Cheers."

Kendall picked up the burger. "Cheers."

⛔️--------------------⛔️

Izzy stood in the closet, running her fingers over the neatly hung clothes, pulling out school uniforms and sweaters, stacking them into piles on the dresser. Downstairs, the twins were watching TV, their laughter drifting faintly through the house, a reminder that in just a few hours, they'd be back in the UK. She didn't like thinking about it. Not the travel, not the quiet house after they left, not the space between here and there.

Charles was beside her, taking shirts off their hangers, folding them efficiently before placing them into the suitcase on the bed. He was quiet, methodical, but she could feel the way his attention flicked toward her in brief glances, waiting for her to speak. He always knew when something was sitting on her mind.

"So," She finally exhaled, shaking out a blazer before folding it. "Kendall's doing a vote of no confidence tomorrow."

Charles didn't react immediately, just folded a pair of their daughter's trousers, smoothing out the fabric before tucking them into the case. Then, he sighed, shaking his head. "Izzy..."

She didn't look up.

"It's not a good idea." His voice was calm, firm.

She shrugged, reaching for another sweater. "I know."

He stopped folding, resting his hands on the dresser. "And you're still helping him?"

She slid her fingers over the fabric in her hands. "I'm advising."

Charles let out an amused breath, shaking his head. "Advising. Right. That's what we're calling it."

She smirked slightly, reaching for another hanger. "Would you rather I call it 'offering my extremely valuable insights'?"

His eyes stayed on her for a second longer before he turned back to the suitcase, exhaling. "I'd rather you call it what it is. Getting involved in something that's a fucking mess."

Izzy didn't say anything, just kept packing. Charles reached for another shirt, folding it carefully. "Tell me what he said."

She leaned against the dresser, arms loosely crossed, glancing at him before answering. "He's telling me, basically everything. Who's locked in, who's on the fence. He thinks he has the numbers."

Charles exhaled, picking up another stack of shirts. "Who's with him?"

She listed them off. "Roman's working Lawrence, Stewy's locked in, Frank, Karl, Laird. Gerri's waiting to see how things shake out. Ilona's out. Asha's a maybe...in. Peter will probably go with Laird."

Charles let out a quiet whistle. "Well, fuck a duck. That's more than I thought."

Izzy nodded. " Right? It's more than I thought, too."

He paused, thoughtful, then looked at her again. "You actually think he can do it?"

She hesitated for half a second before answering. "Maybe."

That was the difference. A few days ago, she wouldn't have entertained the possibility. Logan was Logan, and betting against him was betting against survival. But Kendall's certainty wasn't just bravado. He had people. More than expected. It wasn't a guarantee, but it wasn't impossible.

Charles exhaled through his nose, shaking his head again. "And what happens if it goes wrong?"

Izzy ran a finger along the dresser, tilting her head slightly. "Then Logan survives. And so do I."

Charles looked at her carefully. "And if it works?"

She shrugged. "Then I'll handle it."

Charles huffed a quiet laugh, looking away. "Jesus." She turned back to the closet, reaching for another uniform.

"You're playing this way too close," he said after a moment. "If your dad finds out-"

"He won't." She said it easily, certain.

Charles sighed. "Famous last words." She smiled slightly, turning to face him fully. "Are you worried about me, Ashford?"

He gave her a dry look. "No. You always find a way to land on your feet but I'm worried about what you'll do to everyone else when you do."

She laughed, but before she could respond, he changed the subject. "My parents were asking about Christmas. Wondering if we'd go down to Surrey. They want to see the girls."

She nodded slightly, setting a folded sweater into the suitcase. "Mm."

"They also think we should look at some properties while we're there. Maybe something near Brighton. A proper house. Just for the holidays."

She didn't respond, just walked toward him, slow, deliberate. Charles barely had time to exhale before her lips brushed against the curve of his jaw, trailing down to his neck. His hands instinctively went to her waist, but before he could speak, her mouth was at his ear, voice low.

" Why don't you close the door."

His grip on her tightened slightly, just for a second, before he stepped back, walked across the room, and shut it. When he turned back, she was waiting, watching him.

Charles walked toward her, hands resting at her waist before sliding lower. He lifted her easily, the way he always did, and moved toward one of the kids' beds.

She shook her head, laughing softly. "That's probably not a good idea."

He sighed, smirking against her skin. "No, probably not."

They went to the bathroom instead.

He barely made it into the bathroom before Izzy's lips found his again, this time messier, hotter, less controlled. The door clicked shut behind them, but neither of them were paying attention to that anymore. Her hands were already in his hair, pulling him down, dragging him into it, her mouth parting just enough for him to deepen it. He didn't hesitate, didn't overthink it, just let himself fall into her.

She pressed against him, her sweater riding up as his hands slipped underneath, fingertips tracing the curve of her waist, thumbs brushing over bare skin, warm and steady. He inhaled sharply when she bit at his lower lip, just enough to send something sharp and electric running down his spine.

"Fuck," he muttered against her mouth, not even thinking, just feeling.

She smirked, tilting her head, letting her lips skim over his jaw, her breath warm against his skin before she kissed just beneath his ear, slow, deliberate. His grip on her tightened instinctively.

She was fucking with him. She knew exactly what she was doing.

Charles held her steady against the mirror, his grip firm but easy, spreading her open for him as he pressed slow, lingering kisses along the inside of her thighs. He could feel the way her muscles tensed under his hands, the slight tremor in her breath, the way her fingers curled into his hair as if she wasn't sure whether to pull him closer or push him away.

He started slow, dragging his mouth over soft, warm skin, teasing, licking just enough to make her exhale sharply. He let his tongue flick lightly, barely grazing where she needed it most before pulling back slightly, pressing another open-mouthed kiss against the sensitive spot just beside it.

Izzy's head tipped back against the mirror, her breathing uneven, her thighs tensing around his shoulders. His fingers dug in slightly, holding her in place as he flattened his tongue and licked a slow, steady stripe up, groaning slightly against her when she let out a quiet, stuttered gasp.

Her hips shifted against him, chasing the feeling, but he wasn't ready to give it to her yet. He stayed slow, deliberate, alternating between soft, barely-there strokes and deeper, more focused ones, keeping her right on the edge of frustration.

Her grip in his hair tightened slightly, fingers threading through the strands, urging him on. He smiled against her skin, pressing his tongue firmer against her, adding just enough pressure to make her moan, her legs tightening around him.

The sound sent something hot straight to his stomach.

He shifted slightly, adjusting his grip, pulling her closer, and then-he picked up the pace.

He licked deeper now, his tongue moving faster, more insistent, slurping softly, his mouth working her over until her thighs started trembling. She let out a shaky breath, her back arching slightly, her head tilting forward now as if she needed to watch, to see what he was doing to her.

Her lips parted, and she let out a small, wrecked sound, barely above a whisper.

Charles groaned, his grip tightening, keeping her exactly where he wanted her. His tongue flicked faster, relentless now, licking and sucking with precision, his lips dragging against her, wet and messy, sending sharp jolts of heat straight through her.

She whimpered, her head knocking back against the mirror again, her hands fisting at his hair, her entire body tightening under his mouth. The pace, the way his tongue curled against her just right-it was too much. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, her thighs shaking, her breath coming in sharp, uneven gasps.

Her voice was soft, barely above a whisper, wrecked and desperate. "Don't stop."

Charles groaned low in his throat, gripping her hips harder, his mouth sealing over her again, licking and sucking her through it, dragging it out, making sure she felt every fucking second.

Charles exhaled slowly, still catching his breath as he finally pulled back, pressing one last, slow kiss against the inside of Izzy's thigh before rising to his feet. Her body was still trembling slightly, her chest rising and falling in sharp, uneven breaths, her lips parted, eyes glassy. He could see it all-the way her legs barely held her up, the slight tremor in her fingers as she rested them against the counter for balance.

Still, she looked up at him, a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth, and fuck if that didn't make something curl low in his stomach.

Charles ran a hand through his hair, inhaling deeply before leaning in, gripping her chin between his fingers, tilting her face up toward him. "Shower," he murmured, voice rough, controlled.

Izzy blinked slowly, still dazed, but nodded, pushing off the counter and stepping toward the glass enclosure. He turned on the water, adjusting the heat, steam already rising between them, before he glanced back at her.

"On your knees," he said simply.

She smirked, dropping slowly, deliberately, her hands sliding down his chest as she lowered herself. Charles swallowed, watching her settle in front of him, her palms resting lightly on his thighs.

He let his fingers slide through her hair, gripping at the roots, firm but not too tight-yet.

She kissed just above his hip first, slow and teasing, her lips trailing lower, barely brushing against him. His jaw clenched, his fingers tightening in her hair as he let out a sharp breath through his nose.

"Izzy." His voice was lower now, more of a warning.

She exhaled a quiet laugh before dragging her tongue along his length, slow and deliberate, her nails digging lightly into his thighs. He groaned, head tipping back for half a second before looking down again, watching as she finally took him into her mouth, lips stretching around him.

Charles let out a low, rough noise, his grip in her hair tightening instinctively. "That's it," he muttered, jaw clenched, his other hand bracing against the shower wall.

She worked him over slow at first, taking her time, hollowing her cheeks, letting her tongue press just right, licking at the sensitive spot she knew would drive him fucking crazy.

Charles exhaled sharply, his fingers tightening in her hair, guiding her just a little. "More."

She hummed in response, the vibration shooting straight through him, making his stomach tense.

Fuck.

His hand in her hair tightened as he pushed in deeper, his breathing uneven now, the control he usually prided himself on slipping fast. She didn't stop, didn't pull away, just let him take what he wanted, her nails digging into his thighs as she took him further.

His head dropped forward, watching as she gagged slightly, her throat constricting around him, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes.

Fucking beautiful.

"Yeah baby," he muttered, his voice strained now, rough with restraint. "Just like that."

She moaned around him, the sound sending another sharp jolt of heat straight through him. His grip on her tightened, his hips moving now, setting a steady pace, watching as she took everything he gave her, her hands clutching at his thighs, keeping herself steady.

Charles let his head tip back slightly, his breath coming harder now, the slick, wet sounds of her mouth around him mixing with the hum of the shower, steam curling between them.

When she was done, Charles yanked her up from the floor, his grip firm, commanding, and before she could even catch her breath, he had her against the cool tile. His hands slid under her thighs, lifting her easily, pressing her fully against the wall as the water cascaded down over them.

Izzy barely had time to adjust before he thrust into her, hard, deep, knocking the air from her lungs. A sharp gasp escaped her lips, her nails digging into his shoulders as she clung to him.

"Shit," she hissed, head tilting back against the tile.

Charles didn't let up, didn't slow down, his grip on her tightening as he set a relentless pace, deep, fast, each thrust making her body jolt slightly against the wall. It was a stretch, a burn, almost too much-but exactly what she wanted.

Her fingers clawed down his back, legs locked around him, her breath coming in short, stuttered gasps.

He was lost in it now, in the slick heat of her, in the sounds she made, in the way her body took him, no hesitation, no resistance.

"You feel so fucking good," he muttered, his voice raw, barely controlled.

Izzy could barely respond, barely think, her body tightening around him as he kept going, unrelenting, his hands gripping her thighs so hard she knew she'd feel it later.

She let out a strangled moan, her head tilting forward, forehead resting against his, her lips brushing his as she breathed, "Fuuuuuuck."

Charles groaned against her mouth, his pace somehow picking up, harder now, rougher, his muscles tensing as his grip shifted, pressing her even closer.

The pleasure hit her fast, sharp, her body clenching tight, her moans breaking apart as her fingers fisted into his hair. He could feel it, the way she tensed, the way her legs squeezed around him, the way her moans turned breathy, desperate.

And then she shattered, her entire body shuddering against him, nails raking down his back as she gasped his name, her release crashing over her in waves.

Charles wasn't far behind, his breath ragged, pace erratic now as he thrust one last time, deep, his grip bruising as he came, his entire body tightening before he groaned low in his throat, burying his face in the crook of her neck as he finally let go.

For a moment, they just stayed there, both of them shaking, breathing hard, the sound of the shower filling the space between them. Charles exhaled slowly, pressing a kiss to her shoulder, his hands still gripping her thighs, like he wasn't ready to let go just yet.

Izzy let out a slow, breathy laugh, her head falling back against the tile.

"Oh my days," she muttered.

Charles let out a low chuckle, pressing a kiss against her damp skin. "Yeah."