The Billionaire's Karma: My Twins Chose Me

My husband just served me a ruthless divorce ultimatum, planning to leave me with absolute pennies. But before he could rip my kids away, my teenage daughter dropped a massive bomb with a sweet smile.

Dad, your assistant's belly is getting huge. If we move into your penthouse and stress her into a miscarriage, we couldn't take the blame.

Now, the cheating, the illegitimate childhis own flesh and blood just shredded his cover right in front of him.

"Orion! Cleo!" Roland slammed his fist onto the table. "Camilla is just a housewife! What kind of future do you expect to have with her?"

"We don't need her to do anything for us." My son, Orion, stepped up, his tall frame blocking Roland's line of sight. "We just need her to take the money."

He didn't blink. "Besides seventy-five percent of the liquid assets and real estate, the company shares you jointly hold must also be fully cashed out to my mom at the current peak valuation, and deposited into her private trust account."

I stared at my teenage twins, my fingernails pressing hard into my palms. The suffocating panic that had tightly gripped my throat just moments ago shattered.

They had dragged me right back onto the battlefield.

The scheming bastard standing across from us visibly swallowed hard, the color rapidly draining from his face.

Chapter 1

Orion and Cleo were called into the study by Roland. I snapped out of the suffocating numbness, dragging my heavy legs to follow them. But the moment my hand hovered over the brass doorknob, Roland's voice bled through the heavy oak.

"Orion! Cleo! Let me make this crystal clear," he snapped, his tone dripping with impatience. "Camilla is nothing but a useless housewife. She can't do a damn thing for your future!"

Orion's voice went deadpan. "Cleo and I have private tutors. We have a nanny. And we will be holding Ivy League diplomas in a few years."

"We don't need some assistant with a knocked-up belly trying to boss us around."

Cleo chimed in, her tone as sickeningly sweet as ever. "Dad, we're just looking out for you. Your personal assistant's belly is already that big. If Orion and I move into your penthouse and stress her out into a miscarriage, we really couldn't take the blame."

The silence behind the door grew thick. Having his cheating and his illegitimate spawn aired out so casually by his teenage daughter choked him. The muffled pacing inside stopped.

I stood frozen in the hallway. A sharp, physical ache pierced my chest, and a high-pitched ringing flooded my ears. The rest of their conversation drowned out in the rushing blood pounding against my temples. By the time the heavy door finally clicked open, hot tears were already tracking down my cheeks, soaking my collar.

Roland stepped out. He caught sight of my wet face, and his eyes darted away guiltily.

He cleared his throat, lowering his voice into something almost resembling remorse. "Look, I am the one who wronged you here. I will give you full custody of Orion and Cleo."

He adjusted his watch. "You can have seventy-five percent of the marital assets too. But the company shares we jointly own those have to be split down the middle."

I swallowed hard, digging my nails into the flesh of my thumbs to ground myself. Logic whispered that this was the absolute best deal I was ever going to extract from him. But the lump in my throat was so thick I couldn't force a single syllable out.

"Just cash out the shares entirely." Orion's voice cut through the tension. He stepped out of the study, adjusting his cuffs.

"My mom doesn't know the first thing about running a corporation. Keeping the equity is useless to her unless it is liquidated."

Cleo leaned against the doorframe, crossing her arms. "We're all family, right? Rather than selling it to outsiders, she should just sell it to you, Dad. With those extra shares, you will have absolute control over the board."

"Once the company rings the bell on the NASDAQ, you will be the newest hotshot on Wall Street. This little bit of cash out is pocket change to you."

I stared blankly at my kids. Corporate equity wasn't just money; it was sheer power.

By handing all those shares back to Roland, they were handing him the keys to the kingdom to solidify his reign. They might have chosen to live with me, but blood was thick. Deep down, they still seemed to be looking out for their father.

Roland stood there, caught off guard. He hadn't expected his teenage kids to understand the nuances of corporate leverage.

Orion and Cleo simultaneously flashed him identical, innocent smiles. "Is that a deal, Dad?"

Finally, Roland broke eye contact. He nodded, straightening his tie.

"Deal. It is settled then. I will see you at the lawyer's office at 8:30 sharp tomorrow morning to sign the papers."

Chapter 2

The front door clicked shut. Roland was gone, not lingering for even a fraction of a second.

We had been married for years, building everything from scratch. I had naively believed that after surviving the grueling climb to the top, we were safe. That we would coast through the rest of our lives, a perfect family of four. I never suspected that while I was busy holding down the fort, he was out spreading his seed and playing house with another woman.

I was the ultimate fool, living in a handcrafted delusion. Now, the blindfold was ripped off, revealing nothing but a pitch-black abyss beneath my feet.

I drove my fingernails so hard into my palms that the skin broke. The sharp, grounding sting was the only thing anchoring my sanity, physically restraining me from running out that door to beg him to stay.

"Mom, I'm starving." Cleo threw her arms around my waist, pulling me out of my downward spiral.

"Setting up this damn divorce trust fund was exhausting. Let's go celebrate. I want the most expensive food in the city."

Orion shoved his hands into his pockets. "Yeah, Mom. I could eat."

Seeing that the kids weren't shattered by the divorce gave me a tiny sliver of relief. I swiped the dampness from my cheeks and reached for their hands. "What do you guys want? I'll head to the kitchen right now."

Orion caught my wrist, feigning a tragic sigh. "Mom, between the marital assets and liquidating those corporate shares, you are literally a multimillionaire now. Can't you just take us out for a proper meal?"

I let out a soft, embarrassed laugh.

For years, I had obsessively micromanaged their diets, cooking every meal from scratch to make sure they were healthy. They loved my cooking. Sometimes I would pack extra for their prep school friends, and those kids would sweetly call me "Mom" when they came over.

Those exhausting but golden years felt like yesterday, yet that reality was dead and buried now.

But for Orion and Cleo, I was going to armor up.

We went to the most exclusive Michelin-starred steakhouse downtown. Sitting in the pin-drop quiet of our private VIP booth, sipping on outrageously expensive vintage champagne while looking out at the glittering city skyline, I pushed that cheating bastard to the back of my mind.

Knowing the insane pressure cooker of high school AP classes waiting for them, I carefully tested the waters. "Orion, Cleo even though your dad and I are getting divorced, we both still love you. That will never change."

I wasn't trying to be a saint or absolve Roland of his sins. But as a mother, I couldn't let their bright, untainted futures be shadowed by the toxic fallout of our marriage.

"Why would I hold a grudge against him?" Cleo shrugged. "I have to study, get glowing skin, and become a total icon. I have way too much on my plate to care."

I threw a worried glance at Orion. He took a slow bite of his dry-aged ribeye and offered a perfectly relaxed smile.

"I don't resent him either, Mom. Honestly, I don't care about him at all. You need to take some notes from Cleo and me, okay?"

The dim, ambient lighting of the booth cast soft shadows across their faces. For a fleeting second, it felt like my kids had suddenly grown up. They were too mature.

"I know." I nodded firmly. It was a promise to them, and a vow to myself.

"Mom, here's your favorite lobster bite." Cleo interrupted my thoughts, placing a generous portion of butter-poached lobster onto my gold-rimmed plate.

"No, Mom prefers the crab cakes." Orion slid two perfectly seared jumbo lump crab cakes next to it.

"Thanks, sweethearts." I picked up my fork, taking a bite of each.

Chapter 3

The rich food settled in my stomach, actually numbing the edge off the sharp ache.

The next morning, my eyes snapped open before the sun even cracked the horizon. I reached out, my hand brushing against the cold, empty space on the mattress, and the reality crashed down on me all over again: Roland and I were getting a divorce.

Yesterday, having Orion and Cleo by my side had acted like a temporary anesthetic. But after a long, quiet night, the withdrawal symptoms hit hard, twisting my insides into tight knots. I knew it was pathetic to feel this physical withdrawal. I knew you couldn't chain down a man who had already mentally walked out the door.

But I wasn't some untouchable heroine in a movie, nor was I a ruthless corporate shark. I was just human. A flawed, vulnerable housewife.

Roland had consumed the entire first half of my life; he was the man I had poured every ounce of my love into. Now, with his sudden, violent betrayal and exit, my body couldn't just switch off the phantom pain.

A soft knock at my door pulled me out of my head. "Mom, are you up?" Cleo called out.

"I'm up," I replied, aggressively rubbing the raw corners of my eyes before pushing myself out of bed to open the door.

My daughter stood in the hallway, holding up a stunning dress on a velvet hanger. A bright smile lit up her face. "Mom, Orion and I picked this out for you. You are wearing this to the lawyer's office today."

"Oh?" I blinked, taking in the garment. It was a sharply tailored haute couture silk power dress. The deep V-neckline paired with a cinched waist gave it a fiercely sexy, dominant queen energy.

I hesitated, tracing the luxurious fabric. "This is too gorgeous. Can I actually pull this off?"

"Are you kidding? My mom is an absolute stunner!" Cleo grabbed my hand and dragged me into the walk-in closet, rubbing her hands together in excitement.

"Hurry up and change. I'm doing your glam next."

I had realized a long time ago that my youth was fading. I had been playing the ostrich, avoiding mirrors and giving up on styling myself. But seeing the pure excitement in Cleo's eyes, I forced a nod. "Okay."

However, an hour later, with my makeup flawlessly set and the silk dress hugging my curves, I stared at my reflection in pure shock.

The woman looking back at me was statuesque and fiercely elegant. Sure, if you zoomed in, you could catch the fine lines around my eyes, but the relaxed confidence radiating from my gaze was something only earned through time. I wasn't old and washed up. Stripped of the oversized sweaters, I was actually breathtaking.

Orion leaned against the doorframe, his eyes lighting up as he looked at my reflection. "Mom, you look incredible."

A hot prickling sensation hit the back of my eyes. I pulled both my kids into a tight embrace, my throat tight. "Thank you, guys."

Cleo hugged my waist, giving me a sweet, pleading look. "Mom, if you really want to thank us, take us on a ridiculously luxurious vacation. Once fall hits and we're locked into the AP honors classes at the prep school, we'll be grinding our lives away for those Ivy League recommendation letters!"

I nodded without a second thought. "Done. You guys pick the destination. Anywhere you want."

At 8:30 AM sharp.

Orion, Cleo, and I pulled up to the sleek glass doors of the lawyer's office. Roland was already waiting by the entrance. And standing right next to him was his personal assistant, Destiny.

The woman he was screwing behind my back.

Destiny stood unnecessarily close to him, sticking out a baby bump that was barely even visible yet, her young face plastered with a smirk.

Roland looked up as we approached, his eyes instantly catching on my dress and lingering. A spark of stunned admiration flared in his pupils. Standing next to him, Destiny noticed the shift in his attention. Her jaw tightened, and she gave his sleeve a sharp, jealous tug.

Roland snapped out of his trance, averting his gaze and clearing his throat.

Chapter 4

Cleo strolled over, feigning shock as she greeted her. "Destiny, why do you keep rubbing your stomach? Is your couture corset too tight, or is your fake baby bump about to fall off?"

"You!" Destiny's face flushed an ugly shade of puce. She yanked on Roland's arm, desperate for backup. "Roland, look at your daughter!"

Roland frowned, opening his mouth to speak.

But Orion cut him off, shooting Cleo a harsh look. "Cleo, what is wrong with you? You used to be a brat when Dad was around to protect you, but do you think things are still the same now?"

"I" Cleo's eyes instantly welled up with tears. She cast a timid, fragile look at Roland.

"Dad, I'm sorry. I was just making a joke. I didn't mean it. Please don't be mad."

Roland froze. I watched his eyes soften, clearly struck by a wave of nostalgia. These were the kids he had spoiled since they were in diapers, raising them to be brilliant and well-behaved. Now, his daughter couldn't even make a simple joke without getting attacked.

Roland abruptly turned his crosshairs onto Destiny. "She is just a kid! Why are you stooping to her level? Go wait outside!" he snapped.

Under the cold fluorescent lights of the attorney's conference room, Roland and I signed the finalized divorce papers and submitted the official petition. In thirty days, the decree would be absolute.

Destiny clamped herself onto Roland's arm, deliberately strutting ahead of the three of us as we left the building. "Babe, where are we going to celebrate tonight?" she asked, her voice dripping with artificial sweetness.

Orion drawled lazily from behind them. "Destiny, that three-Michelin-star club on the top floor is pretty decent. My dad rented out the entire place to throw my mom a party there once."

Cleo immediately added fuel to the fire. "That private ski resort in Aspen is great too! Dad bought my mom a luxury chalet right on the slopes there just to cheer her up."

Orion tapped his chin thoughtfully, looking at his sister. "Now that I think about it, if it's expensive and exclusive, Dad has already taken Mom there."

Cleo flipped her hair. "Obviously!"

Destiny's face morphed through several shades of mottled purple. She reached over and viciously pinched Roland's bicep.

Roland flinched, pain and irritation flashing across his features, but he swallowed his anger to save face in public. He looked just as sick as she did.

Orion and Cleo acted blind to the meltdown happening inches away. They grabbed my hands, breezing right past the miserable couple as we headed for the parking lot.

"Orion, where are we going for our trip?" Cleo asked, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

Orion smirked. "Let's hit the Amalfi Coast in Italy. The Italian guys there have insane abs. It is about time Mom enjoyed a real, romantic date."

"Yes!" Cleo clapped her hands. "Or we could do Paris!

"With Mom's looks, she is a total knockout over there. She might just bring home a gorgeous foreign boyfriend."

Walking behind us, Roland's expression darkened the second he heard that. "Camilla, you are going out of the country?" he cut in.

"Yeah." I had zero interest in talking to him. I gave a noncommittal hum and stared down at my phone screen.

"Taking the kids out to clear their heads is a good idea," Roland muttered to himself, clearly trying to regain some sense of control.

"I have a buddy who runs a luxury travel concierge service. You can use him. I will give him a heads-up so he can look out for you guys."

Cleo stopped in her tracks, hitting him with her best Daddy's-little-girl voice. "Wow, you are the best, Dad!"

Orion gave a polite nod. "Thanks, Dad."

"Of course." Roland's face softened into a picture of fatherly devotion, looking at Orion and Cleo. He was completely oblivious to the fact that standing right next to him, Destiny was grinding her teeth so hard her jaw looked ready to snap, her features twisted in pure, unadulterated rage.

Chapter 5

In the end, I took the kids and used Roland's buddy's luxury concierge service for our trip abroad. Thanks to him footing the bill, the vacation was flawless. We jetted across multiple countries.

We had a private guide and a personal translator at our beck and call. From the five-star suites to the Michelin-star dining, everything was meticulously arranged.

Cleo dragged me through the lavender fields of Provence for a photoshoot, leaning in to whisper, "Only an idiot turns down a free ride. If Dad wants to bleed cash, we are going to make him bleed."

"She is not wrong!" Orion called out from a few yards away, adjusting the lens on his DSLR.

He laughed and waved us over. "Come on, look at the camera. Smile!"

Cleo grabbed my hand, throwing up a peace sign at the lens. The pose was clich, but the smile cracking across my face was brand new. Just like my post-divorce life.

Later, we chartered a private yacht in the Caribbean and went on a shopping bender through the luxury boutiques of Beverly Hills, swiping that cheating bastard's money until the black cards practically melted.

Watching the endless rows of designer shopping bags pile up in our suite, it finally clicked. The kids claimed they wanted to unwind, but this entire trip was a calculated mission to pull me out of my dark headspace. I might have had garbage taste in men for the first half of my life, but I had raised two fiercely loyal kids.

God, I loved them.

After we flew back, I needed something to occupy my time. The ten million dollars from liquidating Roland's corporate shares had already hit my bank account. The remaining seventy-five percent of the marital assets would clear in a few weeks.

But I refused to just sit around draining my accounts. I needed a project.

After a few days of playing around, I set up a TikTok account. I ditched the boring housewife aesthetic and started posting my post-divorce glow-upsharing my multimillion-dollar luxury lifestyle, high-end fashion hauls, and my physical transformation.

If I nailed the editing and kept the aesthetic sharp while sprinkling in some authentic day-in-the-life moments, I knew I could hook an audience obsessed with wealth and revenge makeovers. Once the views rolled in, I could start linking affiliate products in my bio. If I got comfortable enough on camera, I could even go live, chat with followers, and rake in the creator fund.

I pitched the idea to Orion and Cleo, and they were entirely on board. "Mom, as long as you are having fun, do whatever you want," they told me.

Backed by my kids, I dropped my first videoa high-speed montage of my closet purge, throwing out all my drab clothes and stepping into a sleek designer suit. It didn't break the internet overnight, but the algorithm picked it up. The views were solid, and the comment section was surprisingly hyped. I knew building an empire took time, so I buckled in for the long haul.

Life finally felt full and genuinely happy.

But of course, right as the thirty-day waiting period for the absolute divorce decree was about to expire, Roland showed up at my door.

He announced he was calling off the divorce.

If he had pulled this stunt a month ago, I might have felt a sick, twisted sense of victory, maybe even a pathetic sliver of relief. But now? My entire focus was locked onto my kids and my new brand. Seeing Roland backtrack and grovel just made my stomach churn.

I crossed my arms, staring at him. "Why?"

Roland rubbed his hands together nervously. His eyes darted around the entryway for a few seconds before he finally pasted on a look of deep, agonizing remorse.

"Camilla, I have done a lot of thinking lately. I realized I just can't let you go. I can't lose you or the kids."

Chapter 6

Couldn't let me go?

Since the kids started middle school, Roland had been practically living at the office, flying out on endless business trips. If I ever called to ask when he would be home, he would snap at me for being suffocating and demanding. Then he got himself a mistress and brutally handed me an ultimatum.

Now, he suddenly couldn't let me go?

I would sooner believe Satan was attending Sunday mass today than trust a single word out of his mouth.

Seeing my silence, Roland doubled down. "Honey, I know I messed up. I want to come home. Let's just go back to being a family."

I took a step back, staring at him with zero warmth. "Just because you realize you made a mistake doesn't mean I have to forgive you.

"You want to come back? Well, I don't want you anymore. And guess what? Orion and Cleo don't want you either."

Roland froze. His jaw worked silently for several seconds before he finally turned around and walked away like a whipped dog.

But something felt off.

A month ago, Roland was willing to bleed seventy-five percent of his assets and half his corporate shares just to cut me loose. Now he was begging to come back? What about Destiny?

What about the baby she was carrying? Was he just tossing them both out?

Something must have happened.

I pulled a few strings with my old connections in the industry, and the truth spilled out immediately.

Roland's company was bleeding out.

Not long ago, Destiny started throwing her weight around the office, parading around as the CEO's wife just because she was knocked up. She stuck her nose into every corporate decision. The staff was miserable, and several of their top-tier executives had already handed in their resignations.

But she didn't just ruin the internal management; she tanked their supply chain. Acting entirely on her own, Destiny swapped out their primary manufacturer, bragging about cutting operational costs by five percent.

Before Roland could even throw her a parade, he discovered the new components were garbage. They failed every quality inspection. The entire batch had to be scrapped, and the money they dumped into the order evaporated into thin air.

Roland scrambled to find a new supplier. With zero components on hand, the assembly lines ground to a halt. They couldn't hit their delivery deadlines for their major clients and got slapped with massive breach-of-contract penalties.

After that catastrophic chain of events, Roland was working himself into an early grave, and the company was hemorrhaging cash. Ringing the bell on the NASDAQ was off the table now. And those shares I forced him to cash out at peak valuation? They were now worth less than half of what he paid me.

Roland lost his mind during the board meeting. He smashed a stack of files right into Destiny's face in front of all the senior executives and shoved her hard. Wearing her six-inch stilettos, she tumbled down the steps.

Blood soaked the inside of her thighs, and an ambulance hauled her straight away.

She was currently under strict medical supervision, and no one knew if the baby was going to make it.

Roland was drowning in the fallout. He didn't even bother checking on Destiny. Instead, he locked his sights on the millions sitting in my bank account and came crawling back.

Orion and Cleo caught wind of the drama somehow, but they didn't even blink. "As long as it doesn't delay the final divorce decree," they told me flatly.

My kids had serious foresight. When the thirtieth day hit, Roland pulled a no-show at the lawyer's office to sign the final papers.

I called him. It rang for a long time before he finally picked up.

"Camilla, do you really have to be this ruthless?" Roland asked, his voice heavy with defeat.

I let out a cold laugh. "The stunts you pulled were a hell of a lot more ruthless than this."

"I" Roland stammered. The guilt choked the rest of his sentence, and he went dead silent.

I didn't give him a single inch of mercy. "Your company's PR is already a complete dumpster fire. If you really want to make it worse, I have zero problem playing the devastated ex-wife and feeding your little scandal right to the press."

"You"

Chapter 7

Roland finally caved.

Half an hour later, he rushed over to the lawyer's office. This time, Destiny wasn't glued to his side.

He was wearing the exact same Brioni suit from the last time I saw him, but the collar and cuffs were wrinkled and stained. His usually slicked-back hair was a chaotic mess, and a thick, unkempt shadow of stubble lined his jaw. He looked pathetic.

I didn't say a word, just turned on my heel and walked straight into the building. Roland kept his head down, dragging his feet as he followed me inside.

Finally, the absolute divorce decree was in my hands.

I stood on the steps outside the building, letting the crisp morning breeze wash over my face. The sunlight soaked into my skin, bringing a profound, unprecedented sense of warmth and freedom.

Roland grabbed my arm. "Camilla, I want to talk. Let's grab lunch."

Having witnessed just how ruthlessly cold-blooded this man could be when he walked out on our marriage, his little pathetic puppy act didn't stir a single damn thing in me. But knowing Roland, if I didn't shut this down permanently today, he was going to keep lingering like a bad rash.

I gave a tight, reluctant nod.

He wanted to take me to our old favorite spot downtown. But honestly, eating a Michelin-star meal across from him would taste like chewing on cardboard. So, I pointed to a random bistro across the street, and we sat down.

I handed the menu back to the waiter. The private booth fell into a suffocating silence, leaving just the two of us.

Roland had barely taken a sip of his water when his phone started buzzing against the table. He glanced at the caller ID and immediately hit decline. Three seconds later, it rang again.

Roland slammed the phone onto the table and powered it off. He looked up at me, his eyes bleeding with desperate, cornered calculation. He aggressively ran both hands through his disheveled hair.

After being married to him for years, I knew exactly what that chaotic panic meant. His brain was working overtime, trying to figure out an angle.

I didn't have the patience for his games. I leaned back and crossed my arms. "Spit it out, Roland."

He cleared his throat, finally breaking. "The seventy-five percent of the marital assets I promised you the trust fund transfer was supposed to clear today. But the company is hitting some serious turbulence. Can you give me an extension?"

He leaned forward, lowering his voice. "And those shares you liquidated at peak valuation you should still have all those millions sitting in cash. Can you float me a loan to handle this emergency?

"Camilla, I know I did you dirty. I know asking for money right now is out of line, but we were married for years. We"

"I can give you a few days' grace period on the rest of the trust fund payout," I said, icing out his sickeningly sentimental sob story. "But under Wall Street rules, you are going to pay me an exorbitant bridge loan interest rate for it. As for the millions I cashed out, I'm willing to consider floating you a lifelineat loan shark interest rates."

My TikTok metrics had been skyrocketing lately, and between the brand deals and livestream revenue, I was more than capable of bankrolling my and my kids' luxury lifestyle. Letting that cash rot in a high-yield savings account wouldn't pull in a fraction of the bloodsucking interest I was about to extort from Roland