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 forgot how to breathe. I stood frozen in the middle of my father’s office, fingers curled around my handbag. Less than thirty minutes ago, my father’s assistant had summoned me home with a tone that terrified me. I had spent the drive thinking the bankruptcy rumors were finally true. I hadn’t expected this. The office felt too small. The scent of expensive cigars and polished mahogany clawed at my throat. “I don’t understand,” I said quietly, my voice shaking. “The engagement was always Mabel’s.” Neither of my parents answered immediately. My mother sat elegantly on the sofa, one hand smoothing over ivory lace spread across her lap. I recognized the fabric instantly: Mabel’s wedding dress. The sight made something cold settle in my stomach. “Mabel isn’t emotionally prepared for this marriage,” my mother finally said. “She’s too young.” “So?” I asked impatient

~Camille’s POV~ The next morning, I woke to cold gray sunlight spilling through the penthouse windows. Beside me, Asher shifted before sitting upright slowly, one hand pressing against his forehead. For several seconds, he said nothing, and then his eyes swept lazily over me. I watched as confusion hit first, and then disbelief, before horror. Asher’s face was drained of color. it was exactly as I had predicted, and I panicked instantly, while clutching the sheets of the bed tightly, trying to get hold of the little dignity I had left . “What the hell…” He shoved himself off the bed immediately, breathing hard. “You’re not Mabel. What the fuck is this?” The sheer fury in his voice made me flinch. “Asher—” “Where’s Mabel?” “I can explain...” Tears burned my eyes instantly. “I didn’t want this either...” “Then why the hell were you in my bed?” The bedroom doors suddenly burst open before I could answer. My parents rushed inside first, and then...Mabel follo

Camille's pov “Mama, the buildings look shiny,” Ella whispered dramatically from beside the window.I glanced toward her and smiled faintly. “That’s because New York likes showing off.”The first thing I felt when I stepped back into Manhattan was anger. Quiet anger sitting deep inside my chest while black SUVs moved through streets I once ran away from with nothing except humiliation and two unborn babies growing inside me.Noah looked up from his dinosaur book immediately. “Chicago is shiny too.”“Yes,” I said patiently. “But Manhattan thinks it’s prettier.”Both twins burst into offended little arguments defending Chicago while my assistant Natalie tried unsuccessfully not to laugh from the passenger seat.The sound filled the car warmly, softening something tense inside me.Because six years ago, I came back to this city broken.This time, I returned with my children, my company, and enough power that people now fought for invitations into rooms carrying my name.Laurent House’s