Divorced the Cheat Married the Fleet (Camilla and Lance) novel Chapter 232

The headline flashing across Camilla’s phone made her snort so hard she almost dropped it:

Carter Group Heir’s Face Sparks Alien Bloodline Rumors.

It was supposed to be a regular Thursday night. She’d just picked Jasper up from the hospital, ready to settle him in and maybe sneak a quiet moment for herself. Instead, she found herself choked up with giggles as wild engagement photos of Barnard and Davina appeared on her screen, drowning in a sea of memes and jokes.

Seriously, how did those two manage to turn a simple engagement photo shoot into this much chaos? Camilla never realized Barnard’s sense of style could be... well, this bad. Maybe dating Davina had awakened some kind of hidden gene, because their matching eccentricity was actually impressive.

“Mom, what’s so funny?” Jasper climbed onto the sofa, drawn in by her laughter.

He’d been sulking on and off all day. Losing his favorite storybook—thanks to Barnard’s rampage—had really upset him. Even though Camilla replaced it, the new one just wasn’t the same. He’d been mopey all afternoon.

Camilla and Barnard’s divorce was final. Jasper knew. This time, she didn’t hide anything. Instead, she invited him to join in the laughter, showing him the endless joke threads and “alien” photoshopped images clogging up the web.

Jasper stared, dead serious, for a while. When he noticed people joking about “alien bloodlines,” he squeezed Camilla’s hand, eyes huge and solemn.

“Mom, I’m really glad I’m not his son,” he said, like he was making a solemn vow. “Because what if I ended up like that? It’d be way too scary. I’d definitely freak you out.”

Camilla smiled, her heart feeling lighter than it had in months. She’d always wondered if Jasper resented not being Barnard’s son. Now, she could see very clearly—he wanted nothing to do with it.

Back at the Carter estate, however, the vibe was pure disaster. Calvin had just shattered his third antique vase, glass crunching underfoot. Davina was kneeling by his feet, her whole body shaking. Laura stood off to the side, head bent, lips glued shut. As for Barnard, he was nowhere to be seen.

Calvin jabbed a finger right at Davina, voice booming through the marble halls.

“Explain yourself! All I wanted was engagement photos, not a circus act. Why do you two look like... this?”

Davina’s face crumpled as she let out a wobbly sob.

“Dad, it wasn’t intentional! I just didn’t want the Carter family to look bad, so I told the photographer to fix them up and follow popular online trends. The trolls are just out for blood, I swear!”

She sounded almost offended, as if people online were the real problem.

Calvin shook his head, practically choking on anger. There was just no getting through to her. He turned to Laura, desperate for some sense.

“I told you to pick out her outfit. Something nice, remember? What is she even wearing? All red, all green... Do we look like lottery winners fresh off the street?”

Laura looked up with wounded eyes.

“That’s not what I picked. I gave her a simple white dress, but she changed in secret after I left.”

Calvin shot him a look loaded with sarcasm.

“Oh, you did everything? Great job inventing a new alien bloodline for the Carter family. Genius work.”

“Alien bloodline?” Barnard echoed, truly lost.

Laura handed him her phone. Staring at the weirdly warped photos, with faces stretched and colored filters gone wild, Barnard sobered up in an instant. He shot an accusing look at Davina.

“You did this? What is wrong with you?”

“I just wanted to look good! What’s so wrong with that? You were the one who wanted them edited!” Davina snapped back, eyes glistening with hurt.

Barnard, suddenly mean with the bite of his hangover, glared at her.

“I told you to stop living in a fantasy. Do you even know what you look like? Go check a mirror before you pull stunts like this.”

His anger crashed back in, hotter than before—but all he could think about was whether Camilla had seen those pictures. He wondered if she, too, would laugh at him with everyone else. Whether he’d become nothing more than a joke in her eyes.