Buying Marvel's character rights was basically one of Isabella's impulsive ideas.
Uh… yeah.
She suddenly thought of Marvel while chatting about The Goblet of Fire.
Then Warner said they could help her buy them out externally to offset the pay difference from Goblet of Fire.
Since timing and opportunity lined up, the deal came together naturally.
With the main terms settled, Isabella and Rowling finally left Warner.
They'd be staying in California for a while.
As for when to return to England?
That depended on when the script talks for Goblet of Fire wrapped up.
Once the split-film plan was finalized and approved, they'd head back to London.
Of course, they wouldn't wait forever.
Warner gave Chris Columbus and his team only one month to decide.
If by March 1 Columbus couldn't deliver a split plan that impressed Warner, then regardless of Isabella's support, Warner would move ahead — because The Goblet of Fire had to start shooting before May 1 this year.
The goal was to release it during next year's Thanksgiving or Christmas season.
The reason was simple: in 2005, Warner had no other blockbuster to carry the box office.
So Goblet of Fire had to shoulder the weight.
The same year-end 2005 deadline also applied to the split decision.
In other words, no matter what, Goblet of Fire had to come out by the end of 2005.
If not split, it would release as one full film.
If split, then the second half would hit theaters in summer 2006.
After that came Order of the Phoenix.
If it stayed single-part, Phoenix would be released in summer 2007.
If split, Part 1 would hit summer 2007, and Part 2 the following summer, 2008.
Following that logic—Half-Blood Prince in 2009 and 2010? Deathly Hallows in 2011 and 2012?
Wait—what?!
Why did that schedule stretch ten years into the future?!
Back at the hotel, when Isabella counted on her fingers and explained the day's "casual chat" to her mom and sister, she froze halfway through.
Catherine burst out laughing. "Oh, my dear little sister—"
"We leave you alone for one day, and you manage to sell yourself out for… what, another three years?"
"…," Isabella fell silent.
Because yeah, the extended timeline from the split plan was a bit horrifying.
Vivian couldn't help but laugh either.
Nodding, she said, "Keisha, I think we got it wrong before. Maybe your sister's actually a born workaholic? Maybe all that talk about wanting a break was just to throw us off so we wouldn't send her to Azkaban?"
"No, no, no," Catherine raised a finger, "where she belongs isn't Azkaban, it's Arkham."
"She's a bit crazy. Didn't she say she didn't like overworking, that's why she quit The Voice Season Two? And now? Wow—she's just given herself three extra years of work."
"Hahahaha!" Vivian couldn't stop laughing.
"You two are so annoying!" Isabella snapped, too lazy to argue, and stormed off to hang out with Rowling.
It's not like she miscalculated that badly!
Honestly, these people…
Her flustered little exit had both women laughing till they teared up.
After a while, once Vivian calmed down, she said, "Keisha, your sister's in a good place."
"Yeah," Catherine nodded, knowing what her mom meant. "She really loves her work."
"Exactly. That's what puts me at ease." Vivian smiled softly.
Then she turned her gaze to Catherine, who was lounging on the sofa, surrounded by sketchpads, canvases, and paintbrushes.
The California weather had been too perfect.
Whether sketching inside or painting outdoors, it kept her in bliss.
Vivian asked, "Sweetheart, what about you? Do you want to paint for the rest of your life?"
"Yeah. Why?" Catherine blinked, not catching the drift.
"Because just painting won't support you," Vivian said.
"Why not?" Catherine frowned. "If I paint for Isa, I make a few million a pop—"
Then she froze.
Her face stretched. She glared at her mom. "Mom! Isa was right, you're so annoying!"
Before Vivian could respond, Catherine had already jumped up, tore off her apron, and bolted out of the room.
"Goose goose goose…" Vivian couldn't stop giggling.
Yeah, she'd done that on purpose.
Teasing Isabella was fine; Isabella never took it personally. But still—
She was the one supporting the family.
And it was exhausting.
She carried a lot more weight than she let on.
The little mother-daughter scene went completely unnoticed by Isabella.
All she knew was that when she went to Rowling's suite to play and hadn't even managed to tease little David yet, Catherine showed up and suggested taking the baby out for some sunshine—so off they went.
During their outing—
"Isa?"
"Mm?"
"Want some ice cream?"
"Ice cream? Where?"
"There~" Catherine turned and pointed at their assistants.
The lead one was holding an open cooler full of ice cream, the most eye-catching being colorful Hawaiian shave ice cream.
Blue for the ocean—mint flavor.
Red for volcanoes—sweet watermelon.
Yellow for the earth—tangy mango.
Plus pineapple, raspberry, strawberry, coconut, grape—basically chaos in a box.
"Oh~~ is that Diddy Riese?"
Before Isabella could respond, Rowling's eldest, Jessica, piped up excitedly.
"Yeah~ I had my assistant grab some. Want one?" Catherine offered.
"Of course! I want the ice cream sandwich!" Jessica grinned. "Thanks, Keisha!"
While everyone picked their treats, Catherine shoved a pure mint-flavored shave ice into Isabella's hands.
After Isabella took a bite—
"How is it?" Catherine asked eagerly. "I told them to make it only mint."
"I remember you love that flavor."
"Oh~ it's great~" Isabella squinted and smiled. "Tastes like drinking Sprite."
"Hehe~" Catherine beamed.
The world doesn't revolve around one person.
So while Isabella waited for Goblet of Fire's split plan, the rest of the world kept moving.
On January 20, 2004, Fox announced American Idol Season Three.
Originally, auditions were supposed to start back in August last year.
But The Voice blew everything up, forcing Fox to overhaul their plans overnight.
Now, Fox's updated schedule said auditions would start February 1.
They wanted a national tour, but lacked Disney's resources, so there'd only be six cities: Los Angeles, San Francisco, Honolulu, Atlanta, Houston, and New York.
Across those six, they'd hand out 118 contestant invitations.
Filming would begin in early May, with the premiere on May 12, and the finale around October 27.
The news shook the country.
American Idol had been the most popular talent show before The Voice appeared.
Even though it only started a year earlier, it had two more seasons under its belt, and people were still fond of it—well… somewhat.
So Fox's announcement stirred big discussion across forums and portals.
But before the public could even decide whether to apply or not, Warner and Disney struck back.
On January 21, Warner officially announced The Voice Season One U.S. Tour, kicking off January 31.
First stop: Los Angeles. Then San Francisco, Honolulu, Houston, Atlanta, and finally New York City.
Direct competition.
The tour plan had existed for a while—they just waited until after the holidays and the start of school to launch it properly, maximizing the impact and undercutting Fox's timing.
If you're going to share the market, might as well eat their lunch while you're at it.
And let's be honest—Rupert Murdoch wanted them dead anyway.
So, no reason for Warner to be polite.
But Warner wasn't done.
On January 22, Atlantic Records, under Warner, announced that The Voice Season One soundtrack would release the same day the tour began.
And Season One's third-place winner, Lana Del Rey, would drop her debut single that very day too.
Runner-up Katy Perry and champion Bruno Mars would follow with singles in February and March.
Fans were encouraged to show their support.
Big news. Smart timing. Great follow-up.
But that was only the beginning of the war.
On January 27, a month after The Voice's first season ended, Disney dropped the bomb:
"The Voice Season Two auditions will officially begin May 1!"
"Registrations at local Mickey Clubs, with live city and state rounds. The national rounds will be filmed in early August and air on the 7th. Maybe you'll be the next big star…"
Boom.
Disney's announcement was like cold oil poured into boiling water.
The U.S. entertainment scene exploded.
Because Disney's schedule directly overlapped with American Idol!
Meaning the two shows would not only compete—but potentially kill each other.
"Wowwwww—is this an official declaration of war??"
"Oh my god! Oh my god!! Oh my god!!! The Voice and Idol can't coexist?? That's brutal—but I love it!"
"Fight fight fight!!! I want blood! I want chaos!"
Humans really are the raccoons of the gossip field.
Nothing thrills them more than drama while munching popcorn.
So—capital just went to war?
The old champion versus the new?
That's like Uncle Sam setting up a boxing ring in front of the White House to challenge the President—shirt off, bare-knuckle brawl.
Forget "hype." Tyson versus Jake Paul wouldn't top that.
The Voice vs. Idol set America ablaze—while NBC and CBS swore under their breath.
Why? Because NBC's Got Talent aired in the same season, and CBS's So You Think You Can Dance also launched in summer.
If No. 1 and No. 2 went head-to-head, No. 3 and No. 4 might be the first to die.
And yet… none of this fazed Isabella.
Winners win. Fate handles the rest.
Why stress when destiny's got it handled?
By January 31, she calmly listened to the debut single of this life's "Thunder Queen."
That was Kill Kill.
Yeah~ Lana Del Rey's debut single was Kill Kill.
In Isabella's previous life, it was her breakout hit.
Or rather, it was the song that introduced the world to Lana Del Rey.
Most people knew it as the title track from her 2010 debut album, but it was first released as an EP in 2008, registered in 2005, and written in 2003.
In that life, she'd struggled for ten years before breaking through.
Success needs luck.
There are no "chosen ones"—only those chosen by the times.
So—
"Oh~ Elizabeth's song is beautiful~"
February 7, 2004. Los Angeles.
At Mount St. Mary's University near the Santa Monica Mountains, a mysterious Hollywood film crew arrived on campus.
In a makeshift dressing room, a long-haired girl sat before the mirror as a stylist tugged at her hair.
Her eyes flicked to a figure nearby—a woman in a canvas cap and oversized sunglasses, quietly playing music—and she smiled.
"I think this song could really cement her in the music industry," she said.
"Maybe next time we meet, she'll already be a—wow—superstar."
"Hahaha~"
The "cool lady" folded her arms and laughed like silver bells.
Fixing her eyes on the girl in the mirror, she said teasingly, "Oh, Margot, if you say that, I'll have to dock your pay."
"What? Why?" the girl blinked.
The woman smirked. "Because The Game Plan and Queen Bee—I picked those projects for you.
So you really think Elizabeth can beat me with just one song?
Oh no—are you saying my judgment isn't as good as her talent?"
"Wow—you're so dramatic—" the girl burst into giggles, shaking her head.
The stylist didn't even flinch, used to the chaos.
The girl grinned again. "Oh, Isa, you're taking this wrong. I was just wondering—can you write a song for Queen Bee?
If you wrote it and I sang it, oh—it would be beautiful."
"If that's the case," Isa said dryly, "then your expectations are delusional. Because when other people sing, it's music; when you sing, it's a health hazard. That's not a voice, it's a banshee wail."
"Pfff-FFF!—" Margot laughed so hard she nearly fell off the chair.
Yes, Queen Bee had officially started filming.
Paramount wanted to ride the success of The Game Plan and release Queen Bee that summer.
This was day three of shooting.
Since Isabella had some free time and the set wasn't far from her hotel, she dropped by.
Her visit made young Robbie ecstatic.
Well—to be fair, when she'd returned from Australia at the end of January, they'd already met, and she'd brought gifts from her mom: homemade beef jerky, manuka honey, and hand-pressed wine.
Ordinary stuff—but Vivian and the others were delighted.
Because at this point, most mass-produced goods in the world were things they could get whenever they wanted, handmade items actually felt more special to them.
Or rather, standardized products couldn't define billionaires who refused to be defined by standards.
As the two chatted, the hairstylist called out "Okay," then went to fetch the makeup artist to take over.
The sudden quiet made little Robbie switch topics. "Isa~"
"Hm?"
"I'm a bit nervous."
"Why?"
"Because I heard Queen Bee originally wanted Lindsay. Her Freaky Friday last year sold really well."
Although everyone believed Isabella's arrival would dominate the entire teen market, Lindsay Lohan's Freaky Friday still earned $160 million during last summer's box office season.
That surprised many in the industry. Some people even got bold ideas again—thinking of giving the teen genre another try—but by the end of the year, after The Game Plan was released, they once again suppressed those urges.
They went dormant.
Because the industry felt Lindsay's success might've happened only because Isabella had stopped doing those teen flicks.
In other words, Lindsay's success was survival in the cracks left behind.
Ahem—
But with Margot Robbie's arrival, everything changed.
Everyone now believed Margot Robbie had been launched by Isabella herself—her "chosen" actress to seize the leftover teen market she didn't want but still existed. So if Margot Robbie succeeded consistently, then…
Isabella would, as an individual, monopolize the entire market.
Honestly, Isabella had heard all that gossip long ago—but she didn't care.
Because she had The Voice.
When you can close your eyes and make over a hundred million in cash each year, people claiming you're plotting to monopolize the teen movie market? OMG—
Funniest joke she'd ever heard.
The teen-movie market wasn't even that big.
The total annual profit from that genre didn't even match the cash she made. So even if she were bored out of her mind, she wouldn't waste time on that nonsense.
In her view, outside analysis was basically the emperor's golden shovel—shiny but useless.
But just because Isabella didn't care didn't mean little Robbie didn't.
Once professionals placed her in direct competition with Lindsay Lohan, saying she wasn't nervous would be a lie.
After all, Lindsay had been famous much longer and was indeed a bigger name.
And her nervousness wasn't even about status—it was that if Isabella really was trying to monopolize the market, and she failed…
Isabella might be disappointed.
And that—
"Do you seriously spend all day thinking about this crap?" Isabella was speechless.
"Aw~ I just don't want to embarrass you~" Robbie cooed.
Her pitiful, cutesy act made Isabella roll her eyes hard. "Get out of here. I don't think like that."
"So just focus on acting. I didn't sign you because I expected you to do something for me—I signed you because you're my fan. Okay?"
"Ohhh~" Robbie drawled, smiling mischievously as she said, "Isa, you're so fierce."
"…" Isabella waved a hand and walked out, too lazy to argue.
She didn't stay long on the Queen Bee set anyway.
It was a normal school day, and since the crew was filming in a real school, Hermione Granger showing up in person was bound to cause a riot.
She greeted the crowd of students and teachers, watched a few scenes being shot, then—like the toy robot Marutchi from Iron Kid—rolled out like a spinning top.
Once she left, peace returned to the set.
As for Isabella…
She kept an eye on the clock, waiting for Goblet of Fire.
While Isabella had free time, her mother was buried in work. By early January, lawyer Valentine had already finished reviewing all the The Voice licensing contracts sent in from around the world.
Toss out the shady ones, keep the serious ones—even if they negotiated with three or four broadcasters a day, when dozens of countries wanted the show, it would still take over a month to wrap everything up.
So, yeah—signing contracts every day.
After three weeks of wrangling, The Voice's rights had already brought in over $300 million.
After deducting buyouts and pending deals, before The Voice ever went out of fashion, Isabella would be pulling in four to five hundred million dollars a year.
In cash.
U.S. dollars.
And that didn't even include North America.
The U.S. revenue was separate.
Also, their deal with Disneyland was officially done.
When consulting with Columbus earlier, he'd said, "Ten million a year is plenty." Because the Voice theme park game could only handle 1,000 visitors a day. Even if they ran it daily, that's just 365,000 people a year—meaning each person effectively earned Isabella $27.3. But the point wasn't volume—the game couldn't even operate daily.
So, yeah, the per-head price (or "traffic fee") was extremely high.
Naturally, Vivian signed the deal with Disney.
After that, Isabella rolled her eyes again at those who thought she was scheming to dominate the teen film market. Then, seeing her mother looking tired, she said, "Maybe we should hire a professional manager?"
"No need."
Vivian smiled. "I'm only busy for a short time each year, so no need for a manager. Outsiders can't be fully trusted, and training someone takes too long. My plan is—once Valentine proves himself dependable, we'll just buy out his law firm and promote him."
Hiring a manager wasn't easy anyway—loyalty mattered more than skill.
Because once loyalty's gone…
Didn't Michael Eisner's greatest dream used to be swallowing Disney whole?
Barry Meyer literally stabbed his own people to climb the ladder.
So…
"Okay, your call."
Isabella found her mother's reasoning sound and didn't press it.
"Oh right, one more thing," Vivian added. "I want to buy a security company. Until we have loyal people of our own, we'll still rely on Disney and Warner's security teams."
"Mhm." Isabella nodded. No objections.
Security was important.
As the days went by, the Goblet of Fire split-shooting plan was finally ready.
On February 12, 2004, Isabella and Rowling once again arrived at Warner Bros. headquarters in Burbank.
Barry Meyer attended the meeting, but the lead speaker was Chris Columbus.
Standing in front of the whiteboard, energized and animated, he began presenting the adaptation plan for Goblet of Fire.
"After discussion," he said, "we think the best place to split Goblet of Fire is Chapter 18—'The Weighing of the Wands.' Everything before that will be Part One, and everything after, Part Two. This way, both halves have self-contained arcs and flow seamlessly."
"Let's start with the 'self-contained' part—"
He explained how Part One would cover Harry's life outside school, centering on the Quidditch World Cup and the reappearance of the Dark Mark—signaling Voldemort's return.
Then Part Two would focus entirely on the Triwizard Tournament.
He described how they'd use Hermione and Harry's early dialogue in Chapter 18 as a natural bridge between films—through conversation and flashbacks, they could recap Part One in under two minutes, ensuring continuity even for viewers who hadn't seen the first half.
The plan made sense. It wasn't a convoluted time-travel mess like Avengers 3 & 4.
When Columbus finished, Barry Meyer asked seriously, "Chris, I like your idea. But how confident are you it'll succeed?"
Columbus smiled, set down his marker, and leaned forward on the table.
"I'm one thousand percent confident," he said. "Because we have Isa."
"The Voice finale drew 58 million viewers. If those people buy a ticket for Goblet of Fire, that's $580 million on opening day. One day! If North America alone makes nearly $600 million, global box office over $4 billion isn't a dream!"
Isabella stared blankly. "…You're insane."
The room burst into laughter. Columbus shrugged. "Okay, maybe not that high, but hear me out. Order of the Phoenix sold five million copies in 24 hours. That means at least five million hardcore fans. But our best opening day hasn't even hit $50 million—why? Because the readers haven't all made it to theaters yet.
"If we show them we can honor the books, they will come. And once they see we weren't lying, they'll spread the word. When your first-day box office hits $50 million, even the theaters become your allies. At that point, even if we didn't want to make history, history would still be ours."
"So…" Columbus winked at Isabella. "Vote?"
The meaning was obvious. Isabella raised a brow. She admitted—his pitch smelled amazing.
She glanced at Rowling, saw her nod slightly, and turned to Barry Meyer.
"Do it."
"Isa, if you say yes, I'm in."
"Do it."
"Okay, we do it." Barry snapped his fingers.