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All I Gave, All Betrayal Novel Cover

All I Gave, All Betrayal

On the night of their third anniversary, Scarlett dies in a car crash—then wakes as a silent ghost in their Seattle penthouse. Within a day, her cold billionaire fiancé, Julian, moves in his pregnant ex, Celeste, who claims her bed and her dinner. Watching helplessly, Scarlett unravels Celeste's schemes, but when Julian discovers her diary, he realizes she was investigating his father's criminal empire to save him. Guilt consumes him, and he burns the penthouse to free her soul—a desperate act of atonement for a betrayal he can never undo.
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Chapter 3

"Julian," Celeste whispered, her voice trembling. "My stomach."

"Are you cramping again?" he asked.

He dropped to his knees beside her on the foyer rug.

"A little. The stress... I keep thinking about those men."

"They aren't here. You're in my home."

"They found my apartment, Julian. They'll find this place."

"I won't let them near you."

A sharp knock echoed from the heavy oak door.

Julian stood up, leaving Celeste sitting next to the shattered glass of my favorite art piece. He yanked the front door open.

Marcus walked in, shaking the Seattle rain off his dark wool coat.

"You actually did it," Marcus said, staring past Julian. "You moved her in."

"Keep your voice down," Julian warned.

"The entire Seattle elite circle is gossiping about her divorce, Julian. It’s front-page news. And now you're playing house."

"Her ex-husband fled the state," Julian snapped.

"Richard Mercer is a coward," Marcus agreed. "But he left her with three million in underground debt. This isn't your problem."

"She has nowhere else to go."

Marcus reached into his leather briefcase. He pulled out a thick manila folder and slapped it against the console table.

"I found this on your desk at the office," Marcus said. "Your assistant thought it was a legal brief. It’s a private investigation report."

Julian stared at the folder. "Who ordered it?"

"Scarlett."

The name hung in the air, heavy and suffocating.

I drifted closer to the ceiling, my invisible spirit trembling. I had paid five thousand dollars for that report. I never got the chance to confront him with it.

"She knows everything," Marcus continued.

"So?" Julian challenged.

"So, she knows Richard ran to Europe. She knows about the Wall Street money laundering."

"Good. Then she understands why Celeste needs a safe place."

"She knows about the loan sharks, Julian. She knows those thugs cornered Celeste outside her apartment last month."

Celeste whimpered, pulling her knees to her chest. "They had knives, Marcus. They threatened my baby."

"I know." Marcus turned his glare back to Julian. "But Scarlett also knows you spent the last two weeks sitting in a private VIP ward at Seattle General."

"Celeste almost miscarried," Julian fired back. "She was bleeding."

"And you told Scarlett you were in Chicago for a corporate merger!"

"I did what I had to do."

"You lied to the woman you live with so you could play bodyguard to your pregnant ex."

Marcus opened the folder. He pulled out a stack of glossy photographs and threw them onto the floor. They scattered across the rug.

"Look at them," Marcus demanded.

Julian didn't look down.

"Look at what she saw," Marcus barked.

Celeste peered down at the photos. She gasped, covering her mouth.

The pictures showed Julian carrying Celeste into the hospital. Julian sleeping in a chair next to her bed. Julian kissing her forehead in the hospital cafeteria.

"Scarlett sat alone in this apartment for two weeks," Marcus said. "She thought you were finalizing the tech merger. Instead, she gets handed a stack of photos showing you playing husband to another woman."

"I was protecting her," Julian repeated, his tone dangerously low.

"You were lying."

"If I told Scarlett the truth, she would have overreacted. She hates Celeste."

"She hates Celeste because you never let her go!"

"That's enough," Julian warned.

"No, it isn't," Marcus pushed. "You brought her here. To Scarlett's home. You know Scarlett grew up in foster care. You know how much this apartment means to her. It’s her sanctuary."

"It’s real estate," Julian countered. "Nothing more."

I shut my non-existent eyes.

Real estate.

I spent a year turning this cold, empty glass box into a home. I picked out every rug, every painting, every throw pillow. I wanted him to have a place where he felt warm.

"You're a cold bastard," Marcus said.

"I owe her family!" Julian shouted.

The sound bounced off the high ceilings, sharp and violent.

"When I was nineteen, sleeping in a freezing car, her parents paid my Ivy League tuition," Julian said, his voice vibrating with absolute certainty. "They gave me a future. I made a promise to protect their daughter."

"That doesn't give you the right to humiliate Scarlett."

"It’s a moral contract, Marcus. A sacred obligation."

"And Scarlett's dignity?"

"Her bruised ego can wait until the loan sharks are behind bars."

My bruised ego.

I floated above them, entirely numb.

He didn't just trample my dignity. He erased it. He wrapped his betrayal in a cape of righteousness, playing the noble savior while leaving me to rot in the dark.

Marcus shook his head. "You're a fool. Scarlett won't tolerate this."

"She will," Julian said coldly.

"Love has limits."

Julian offered a thin, arrogant smile. "Not hers."

"You're crossing a line you can't uncross."

"Show yourself out, Marcus."

Marcus turned toward the door. "Don't call me to clean up the mess when she packs her bags for good."

The door slammed shut.

Silence settled over the foyer, broken only by Celeste’s quiet sniffling.

"He's right," Celeste cried. "I should go."

"You aren't going anywhere," Julian commanded.

"I'm ruining your life."

"You are carrying a child. Richard abandoned you. I won't."

"But Scarlett—"

"Stop talking about Scarlett," Julian interrupted. "She's throwing a tantrum in London. When she gets back, I'll explain the situation. She'll accept it."

"What if she kicks me out?"

"This is my penthouse. I bought it. I make the rules."

Julian reached down, grabbing Celeste's hands. He pulled her up from the floor.

"Did you really kiss my forehead?" she asked, her voice turning soft, almost shy.

Julian looked down at her. "You were crying. You were terrified of losing the baby."

"I felt so safe with you," she murmured. "When Richard left, I thought my life was over. The debt collectors called every hour. They banged on my door in the middle of the night."

"They won't bother you anymore."

"They said they would cut the baby out of me if I didn't pay."

Julian's eyes darkened. A violent muscle ticked in his jaw.

"If they step foot in this building, I will kill them myself," he vowed.

"You shouldn't have to do this. You have a girlfriend."

"My relationship with Scarlett is my business."

"Are you going to break up with her?"

The question hung in the air.

Julian stared at the shattered glass on the floor.

"No," he finally said. "She just needs time to cool off."

"What if she makes you choose?"

"I don't play ultimatums," Julian stated flatly. "She knows better than to test me."

He led her down the hallway, guiding her toward the guest bedroom.

The exact room I had spent months decorating for the family we planned to start.

He opened the door and turned on the soft bedside lamp.

"Get some sleep," he instructed. "I'll handle the security downstairs."

"Will you stay with me?" she asked, gripping his sleeve. "Just until I fall asleep?"

"Of course."

Julian sat on the edge of the mattress. He held her hand while she closed her eyes.

I watched him smooth the blankets over her shoulders. The tender, protective gesture twisted an invisible knife in my chest.

He never once sat by my bed when I was sick. He always hired a nurse and went to the office.

An hour passed. Celeste’s breathing leveled out into a deep sleep.

Julian finally released her hand. He stood up and walked silently out into the darkened hallway, pulling the door shut behind him with the gentle care he had never once offered me.

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