The Billionaire's regret: My twins don't need a daddy.

Camille's pov

“You’re marrying Asher Harrison tomorrow instead of your sister.”

The words slammed into me so hard I actually forgot how to breathe for a second.

I stood frozen in the middle of my father’s office, fingers still curled around the strap of my handbag from the rushed drive home. Less than thirty minutes ago, my father’s assistant had called me at work and told me to come home immediately. The tone alone had terrified me. I had spent the entire drive thinking the bankruptcy rumors were finally true.

I hadn’t expected this.

The office suddenly felt too small. The scent of expensive cigars and polished mahogany clawed at my throat.

“I don’t understand,” I said quietly, though the shaking in my voice betrayed me. “The engagement was always Mabel’s.”

Neither of my parents answered immediately.

My mother sat elegantly on the cream sofa beside the fireplace, one hand smoothing over ivory lace spread across her lap. I recognized the fabric instantly.

Mabel’s wedding dress.

The sight of it made something cold settle into my stomach.

“Mabel isn’t emotionally prepared for this marriage,” my mother finally said without looking at me. “She's too young.”

I stared at her. “So?”

My father exhaled sharply from behind his desk like he was already losing patience. “So you’ll take her place.”

I blinked once, sure I had heard wrong.

“What?”

“You heard your father.”

“No.” A disbelieving laugh escaped my lips. “No, this isn’t funny.”

“Does this look like a joke to you?” Arthur snapped.

I looked between them, waiting for someone to say something that made sense. Nobody did.

“The merger is tied to the marriage,” my father continued. “If the wedding doesn’t happen this week, the Harrisons pull the investment. If they pull out, the company collapses.”

“And that has what to do with me?” I whispered.

My mother finally lifted her eyes to meet mine, and the indifference in them nearly hollowed me out.

“Everything.”

I felt my chest tighten painfully.

“Mabel has spent the last year dating Asher,” I said slowly. “They’re engaged. They’re in love.”

“Mabel is sensitive,” my mother interrupted coolly. “She’s too soft for a man like Asher Harrison.”

I almost laughed again because the absurdity of the conversation felt unreal.

“And I’m not?”

“You’ve always been better at enduring things,” she replied.

I swallowed thickly. “You mean I’m easier to sacrifice.”

My father stood from his chair, irritation flashing across his face. “Stop being dramatic. Do you think you’re the only woman in history to marry for obligation? Families like ours survive because people do what’s necessary.”

Families like ours. The irony almost made me sick.

Families like ours had spent years pretending perfection while everything rotted underneath.

The Summers empire was drowning because of Arthur Summers’ reckless spending, failed investments, gambling addictions, and obsession with appearances. I had seen it coming years ago. I had tried warning him. Nobody listened.

Now they wanted to hand me over like collateral damage.

“You can’t force me to marry someone who doesn’t even know I exist,” I said.

My father’s jaw tightened. “Asher Harrison doesn’t care which daughter he marries.”

The lie came too quickly. Because everybody knew who Mabel was.

Mabel Summers was the beautiful one. The charming one. The daughter magazines loved photographing beside charity banners and champagne towers.

I was the shadow standing somewhere behind her.

“Asher agreed to marry Mabel,” I said carefully. “Not me.”

“That changes nothing,” my father replied. “The wedding proceeds tomorrow.”

My stomach twisted violently. “You already planned this?”

My mother folded the wedding lace carefully before finally standing. “The invitations have already gone out. The press is expecting a wedding. We cannot afford a scandal right now.”

I stared at them both in disbelief.

Not once had either of them asked what I wanted.

Not once had they asked if I was okay.

“I won’t do it.”

The words came out soft, but the tension in the room sharpened instantly.

My father’s expression darkened. “Excuse me?”

“I said no.” I lifted trembling eyes toward him. “You can’t just replace Mabel with me like I’m some spare part hidden in storage.”

My father slammed a hand against the desk hard enough to make me flinch.

“You will do exactly what this family needs you to do.”

“What family?” I shot back before I could stop myself. “Because none of you have treated me like family in years.”

The silence afterward was suffocating.

My mother’s face hardened first.

“You are unbelievably selfish.”

I stared at her in shock.

Selfish?

After years of cleaning up their messes? After years of sacrificing quietly? After spending most of my life shrinking myself to make everybody else comfortable?

“You’re asking me to marry my sister’s fiancé.”

“You should be grateful,” my mother snapped. “Do you know how many women would kill for this opportunity? Asher Harrison is one of the most powerful men in Manhattan.”

I felt something bitter rise in my throat.

“Yes,” I whispered. “And he’s in love with my sister.”

My mother looked away first. That tiny movement told me everything.

They knew.

God.

They actually knew.

A cold numbness spread slowly through my body.

My father moved around the desk toward me. “Listen carefully, Camille. If this marriage doesn’t happen, we lose everything.”

“And if I say no?”

His expression turned frighteningly calm. “Then don’t bother calling yourself a Summers anymore.”

“You’ll lose your trust fund, your apartment, your job connections. Everything attached to this family disappears. Do you understand me?”

There it was. My own father was blackmailing me into marriage.

I looked at the two people standing in front of me and realized neither of them looked guilty.

Only desperate.

Later that evening, the mansion felt colder than usual.

The staff avoided looking directly at me as I walked upstairs, which meant the entire house already knew.

Of course they did.

As I passed Mabel’s room, soft crying drifted through the partially closed door. I stopped immediately.

Despite everything, some part of me still felt protective of her. I pushed the door open slightly.

“Mabel?”

She looked up immediately, startled.

Her mascara was smudged. Her cheeks were pink from crying. A phone rested loosely in her hand before she quickly locked the screen.

For some reason, my eyes caught one name before it disappeared.

Asher.

Something twisted painfully in my stomach.

Mabel wiped at her face quickly. “Camille…”

“You knew?”

Her expression crumbled immediately.

“They just told me this morning.”

I searched her face, trying to understand what she was feeling.

Fear? Guilt? Relief?

“I tried talking to them,” she whispered shakily. “But Dad’s losing everything. He’s barely sleeping anymore.”

I stared at her.

Not once did she say she wouldn’t let this happen.

Not once did she say she’d stop the wedding.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

And somehow that hurt worse. Because she sounded sincere.

I backed away slowly before she could say anything else. By the time I reached my room, my chest felt tight enough to crack open. I couldn’t do this.

I couldn’t wake up tomorrow and marry a man who expected someone else to be standing at the altar.

Panic finally took over. I yanked open drawers, shoving clothes into a duffel bag with shaking hands.

Passport. Cash. Phone charger.

I dropped my wallet twice because my fingers wouldn’t stop trembling. I needed to leave.

Now.

The mansion was silent when I slipped downstairs almost an hour later with my bag clutched tightly against my side. The scent of fresh lilies filled the hallways from tomorrow’s wedding arrangements, sweet enough to make me nauseous.

Every step toward the back exit felt heavier than the last.

But freedom was right there. Just beyond the gates.

I pushed open the garden door and inhaled sharply as cold night air hit my face.

Then—

“Going somewhere, Miss Camille?”

My entire body locked up.

Miller stepped out from the shadows near the gates, tall and immovable in his black suit.

My father’s head of security.

Of course.

Arthur had expected this.

“I’m leaving,” I said quietly. “Move.”

Miller’s expression softened slightly. “I can’t do that.”

“You can.”

“I was given orders.”

Panic clawed violently at my chest. “Miller, please.”

For one second, sympathy flickered across his face. Then it disappeared.

“I’m sorry, Miss.”

I tried shoving past him anyway, but Miller caught my arm immediately.

“Let me go!”

“Don’t make this harder than it already is.”

“Harder?” A broken laugh escaped me. “My family is forcing me to marry a stranger tomorrow and you think this can get harder?”

“Camille.”

My mother’s voice sliced through the night air.

I turned slowly.

Beatrice stood beneath the terrace lights in a silk robe, her expression cold and unreadable.

Something inside me finally broke.

“I’d rather disappear than become someone’s replacement,” I whispered, tears burning my eyes. “I’d rather have nothing than spend my entire life being second choice.”

For the first time all night, emotion flickered across my mother’s face, but it wasn't what I thought.

She crossed the patio in sharp strides.

Then, I felt pain explode across my cheek so suddenly my vision blurred.

I stared at her in shock, one hand pressed against my burning skin. My mother had never hit me before.

Beatrice leaned closer, her voice low and venomous.

“For once in your life, stop ruining things for your sister.”

The words shattered something inside me.

“You’ve always been difficult. Always making everything harder than it needed to be. Now you finally have a purpose, so stop acting like a victim.”

I couldn’t speak.

Because the horrifying part was...she meant every word.

“Miller,” she said coldly, “take her upstairs. Lock the guest suite. If she isn’t downstairs wearing that dress by eight tomorrow morning, you can start looking for another job.”

I stopped fighting after that because there was no point anymore.

By the time the bedroom door locked behind me an hour later, I felt completely hollow.

The wedding dress waited near the window beneath the moonlight.

White lace. Delicate and beautiful.

A cage disguised as silk. I stared at it for a long time before slowly sitting on the edge of the bed.

Tomorrow I will marry a man who wasn’t expecting me. A man powerful enough to destroy lives with a signature. And somewhere deep inside my chest, beneath the fear and humiliation and heartbreak, one terrifying thought refused to disappear.

What if Asher Harrison hated me the moment he saw my face?