Claimed by the Rejected Author

Chapter TwoThe Woman Behind the Pen

The ballroom glittered beneath crystal chandeliers, every table dressed in white linen and fresh roses. Cameras flashed relentlessly as reporters, publishers, and celebrities filled the grand hall.

I adjusted the sleeves of my emerald-green gown, trying to ignore the butterflies in my stomach.

"You look like you belong here," Maya said, smiling as she straightened a loose strand of my hair.

"I feel like I'm about to walk into a battlefield."

She laughed softly.

"In a way, you are."

No one had ever seen my face before.

For three years, I had hidden behind the pen name E. Vale, refusing interviews, photographs, and public appearances. My stories had made headlines around the world, but my identity remained the publishing industry's biggest mystery.

Tonight, that mystery would end.

A coordinator approached us with a warm smile.

"Miss Hart, we're ready for you."

The sound of my real name made my chest tighten.

I nodded and followed her toward the stage.

Behind the velvet curtain, I peeked into the audience.

Rows upon rows of familiar faces filled the room.

Editors.

Publishers.

Actors.

Business leaders.

Then my eyes landed on him.

Ethan Blackwood.

He sat near the front, dressed in a perfectly tailored black tuxedo. His expression was calm, almost bored, as he glanced through the event program.

He had no idea.

A small, bittersweet smile tugged at my lips.

Not yet.

The host stepped onto the stage.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he announced, "thank you for joining us on this unforgettable evening. Tonight, we celebrate one of the greatest literary sensations of our generation."

The audience erupted into applause.

"For years, readers have fallen in love with the unforgettable stories written by the mysterious E. Vale. But tonight..." He paused dramatically. "The mystery ends."

The lights dimmed.

My heart pounded so loudly I could barely hear the music.

"Ladies and gentlemen..."

A spotlight illuminated the entrance to the stage.

"Please welcome..."

He smiled broadly.

"Elena Hart."

The curtain slowly opened.

A collective gasp swept through the ballroom.

I stepped into the light.

For a heartbeat, the room fell completely silent.

Then applause thundered through the hall.

Across the audience, Ethan's expression froze.

His eyes widened in disbelief.

The event program slipped from his fingers onto the floor.

He stared at me as if the world had tilted beneath his feet.

Impossible.

The woman he had rejected...

The woman he had spent years trying to forget...

Was the brilliant author whose novels he had admired, recommended, and praised in interviews.

I met his stunned gaze from the stage.

For the first time since our breakup, I didn't feel small.

I felt powerful.

And somehow, I knew this revelation was only the beginning.

The applause echoed through the ballroom, but all I could see was Ethan.

His face had gone pale.

Disbelief.

Regret.

Shock.

Every emotion flickered across his features in a matter of seconds.

I smiled politely at the audience before stepping up to the microphone.

"Thank you all for being here tonight."

The room quieted instantly.

"When I published my first novel under the name E. Vale, I never imagined it would reach so many hearts. I wrote because writing became the only place where I could tell the truth."

A few people nodded.

Others listened in complete silence.

"My stories are about love, heartbreak, forgiveness, and finding the strength to start over. Those themes weren't born from imagination alone—they came from experience."

I didn't look at Ethan as I spoke those last words, but I could feel his gaze fixed on me.

The audience erupted into applause again.

After the speech, guests lined up to congratulate me.

Editors shook my hand.

Publishers praised my work.

Readers asked for signed copies of my novels.

For the first time in years, I felt free.

Until a familiar voice interrupted.

"Congratulations."

I looked up.

Ethan.

He stood in front of me holding one of my books.

"I had no idea," he admitted quietly.

"I know."

"I've read every one of your novels."

A faint smile crossed my lips.

"The irony isn't lost on me."

His shoulders slumped.

"I deserve that."

"You deserve honesty."

He lowered his eyes.

"I was young. I was arrogant. I thought success mattered more than love."

"And now?"

"Now I'd give up every business deal I've ever made if it meant getting another chance with you."

His words should have meant something.

Once upon a time, they would have been everything I'd ever wanted to hear.

But too much had changed.

I gently took the book from his hands, signed my pen name across the title page, and returned it to him.

"Some stories," I said softly, "are better left on the page."

Before he could answer, another guest approached to congratulate me.

When I looked back, Ethan was gone.

Across the ballroom, however, a woman in a crimson evening gown watched us with narrowed eyes.

She had been the same woman I'd seen with Ethan the day before.

Her lips curved into a smile that didn't reach her eyes.

Whatever game she was playing...

It was only beginning.

The gala slowly came to an end.

Guests drifted toward the exits, their conversations buzzing with excitement.

"I still can't believe E. Vale is Elena Hart."

"She's even younger than I imagined."

"Did you see Ethan Blackwood's face?"

I pretended not to hear the whispers as Maya and I made our way toward the parking area.

"You survived," Maya teased, linking her arm through mine.

"Barely."

"You handled Ethan better than I expected."

"I wasn't doing it for him."

She smiled knowingly.

"I know."

Just as we reached my car, a familiar female voice stopped us.

"Miss Hart."

I turned.

The woman in the crimson gown stood a few feet away. Up close, she was breathtakingly beautiful, with flawless makeup and a confident smile.

"I'm Vanessa Moretti," she introduced herself, extending a hand.

I shook it politely.

"Congratulations on your success."

"Thank you."

"I've heard wonderful things about your books."

There was something about her smile that felt rehearsed.

"I appreciate that."

Her eyes briefly wandered to Ethan, who had just stepped outside the hotel.

"I hope we'll see each other again."

Before I could respond, she walked away.

Maya leaned closer.

"I don't trust her."

"Neither do I."

Across the parking lot, Ethan watched Vanessa leave before looking at me.

He started toward us.

"I'll give you two a minute," Maya whispered, slipping into the driver's seat.

Ethan stopped a respectful distance away.

"I know you don't want to hear this."

"Then don't say it."

He gave a sad smile.

"I can't change what I did."

"No."

"But I want the chance to prove I've changed."

I folded my arms.

"People change every day, Ethan. That doesn't erase the damage they caused."

He nodded slowly.

"I understand."

For a long moment, neither of us spoke.

Finally, he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small silver fountain pen.

"You gave this to me years ago," he said.

My breath caught.

It was the pen I'd saved for months to buy. I'd given it to him on his birthday because he once told me he wanted to sign the biggest business deal of his life with it.

"I kept it."

I stared at the pen but didn't take it.

"I don't want it back."

His hand slowly fell to his side.

"I'll keep it, then."

He stepped back.

"I won't force you to forgive me."

With those words, he turned and walked away.

I watched until his car disappeared into the night.

Something inside me felt... different.

Not healed.

Not forgiven.

Just... lighter.

Because for the first time, he finally understood what it felt like to lose someone who mattered.

But neither of us noticed the black SUV parked across the street.

Inside, Vanessa sat in the back seat, watching everything through the tinted window.

She smiled coldly.

"So," she murmured, "the famous author is the woman standing in my way."

Her bodyguard glanced at her through the rearview mirror.

"What are your orders, ma'am?"

Vanessa's smile widened.

"Keep watching her."

"If she becomes a problem..."

She looked at Elena's retreating figure.

"I'll make sure she never writes another story."

The SUV drove away into the darkness.

Unaware of the danger closing in, Elena headed home, believing the hardest part of her journey was over.

She was wrong.

It had only just begun.