After the explosion at the end of the previous episode, All Is Fair slows down to explore the emotional aftermath. The third chapter becomes a reflection on body, vanity, aging, and control — a theme Ryan Murphy has always mastered, especially when luxury is used to disguise pain.

Trying to regain control of her life, Allura Grant (Kim Kardashian) throws herself into every beauty procedure available — lasers, fillers, ultrasound treatments, and facial harmonization. The promise isn’t youth; it’s the illusion of feeling alive. Meanwhile, Emerald turns to massages and wellness rituals but insists she’s happily single, uninterested in romance. Liberty, ever the pragmatic one, starts anti-inflammatory and hormonal treatments to handle menopause.

In one of the episode’s strongest sequences, the three meet to discuss their “self-care routines.” Dina (Glenn Close) steps in as the voice of reason, asking the question that lingers long after the scene ends: “What’s the point of investing so much in beauty and youth if time always wins?” The group insists it’s not vanity — it’s self-care, it’s about feeling good. But Dina’s question echoes in the silence: Is it really?

The Case of the Week

The client of the episode is Leann, played by Jessica Simpson in one of the most clever and self-aware cameos of the series. Leann is the ex-wife of a rock star (portrayed by Rick Springfield) who’s disfigured himself with endless plastic surgeries in a desperate attempt to stay young — only to leave her for a newer, shinier version. The storyline mirrors countless real-life Hollywood tales, and Simpson leans into the meta, joking about her own past and celebrity romances.

But what starts as satire quickly turns dark. Leann is revealed to be a victim of domestic abuse and, in a horrifying twist, retaliates with an acid attack — a scene that wipes away any trace of humor. It’s brutal, uneasy, and exactly what Murphy does best: peel back the glossy surface to expose the trauma beneath. The firm wins the case, but no one — not the lawyers, not the audience — walks away unscathed.

Allura’s War

As the week’s case unfolds, Allura’s personal life continues to spiral. Still in denial — a phase Dina bluntly calls “the worst possible time to negotiate a divorce” — she discovers that Chase had multiple affairs, including one with a trans woman. The revelation isn’t about shock, but about patterns: deception, ego, and power.

In one of the episode’s most uncomfortable yet strangely human scenes, Allura and Milan go together to get tested for sexually transmitted infections. Murphy shoots it like a dark comedy — two women humiliated by the same man, forced to share a waiting room. Milan, remorseful and now estranged from Chase, tries to reconnect, but Allura is deep in her anger phase and gives her no chance.

Dina, ever pragmatic, pushes for closure: the sooner Allura finalizes the divorce, the sooner she can move on. She even attempts a private negotiation with Chase’s current girlfriend, but it backfires spectacularly — the woman stands by him completely.

That’s when Carrington Lane (Sarah Paulson) drops her bomb: Allura froze her eggs — and fertilized them with Chase’s sperm. Legally, the embryos are part of the marital assets. The case instantly becomes murkier, turning into a direct echo of Sofía Vergara’s real-life legal battle. True to form, Murphy turns tabloid scandal into glossy melodrama.

The revelation blindsides Dina, who never knew about it.

The Ending

Influenced by Milan, who has chosen to become a single mother, Allura makes a reckless, irreversible decision: she forges Chase’s signature and undergoes artificial insemination on her own. The act “solves” the legal issue surrounding the embryos — but creates a massive ethical and professional dilemma for the lawyer herself.

In one of Murphy’s most symbolic scenes, the procedure unfolds as Allura flashes back to her wedding day with Chase, set to Lana Del Rey’s “Young and Beautiful” — coincidentally (or not), the same song that played at Kim Kardashian’s real-life wedding to Kanye West.
Coincidence? Hardly.

The self-reference is ironic, unsettling, and strangely poetic. Allura is trying to reclaim her independence, but the memory betrays her — she hasn’t stopped loving her ex-husband.

And that, more than anything, might be her real problem.