Claimed by the Rejected Author

Chapter Five: Cracks in the Wall

Morning arrived quietly at the Blackwood estate.

For the first time in days, I woke without the sound of reporters shouting outside my window. Sunlight streamed through the curtains, painting golden patterns across the polished wooden floor.

It should have felt peaceful.

Instead, my thoughts were consumed by the same question.

Who wanted to destroy me?

A soft knock came at the door.

"Miss Hart?" Margaret called gently. "Breakfast is ready."

"I'll be right down."

After changing into a simple cream sweater and jeans, I made my way downstairs.

The dining room was spacious, yet only one place at the long table was occupied.

Ethan looked up from his coffee as I entered.

"Good morning."

I hesitated before taking the seat across from him.

"Morning."

An awkward silence settled between us.

Margaret placed fresh pancakes, fruit, and coffee on the table before excusing herself.

"I've arranged additional security around the estate," Ethan said.

"You didn't have to."

"I wanted to."

I met his gaze.

"You keep trying to fix everything."

"No," he replied quietly. "I'm trying to make sure no one else hurts you because of me."

Before I could answer, his phone rang.

His expression changed as he listened.

"What?" he said sharply.

He stood so suddenly that his chair scraped against the floor.

"When did this happen?"

A knot formed in my stomach.

"What is it?"

He ended the call and looked at me.

"My company's servers were hacked overnight."

"What does that have to do with me?"

"The hacker left one message."

He turned his phone toward me.

Across the screen were six chilling words.

The author is only the beginning.

A cold shiver ran through me.

"This isn't just about my books anymore."

Ethan nodded grimly.

"No."

"It never was."

Just then, one of his security officers hurried into the room.

"Sir, there's been another development."

"What now?"

The guard handed Ethan a tablet.

A news website had just published an article claiming that Ethan and I had secretly reunited—and that my rise to fame had been funded by his company.

The story was completely false.

But thousands of people had already begun sharing it.

"They're trying to ruin both our reputations," I whispered.

Ethan's jaw tightened.

"Which means we're getting closer to the truth."

Outside the estate gates, a black SUV rolled silently past before disappearing down the winding road.

Inside, Vanessa glanced at her phone as the fake article spread across social media.

She smiled.

"Let them question her success," she murmured.

"By the time the truth comes out, no one will know what to believe."

But she underestimated one thing.

Elena Hart had built a career turning heartbreak into hope.

This time, she wouldn't let someone else write the ending of her story.

The article spread across social media within minutes.

My phone vibrated nonstop with messages from my publisher, readers, and journalists asking the same question.

"Is it true?"

I closed my eyes and silenced the device.

"I can't believe people are actually falling for this."

"They're reacting before they know the facts," Ethan said. "That's how rumors work."

A sharp knock sounded at the study door.

"Come in," Ethan called.

His head of security stepped inside, holding a tablet.

"We've traced the first accounts that shared the story," he reported. "Most appear to be fake profiles created within the last week."

"So this was planned," I said.

He nodded.

"It looks coordinated."

Ethan exchanged a glance with me.

"Someone is trying to control the narrative."

Before anyone could say another word, Margaret hurried into the room.

"Miss Hart," she said gently, "there's a delivery for you."

"I wasn't expecting anything."

A small gift box rested on a silver tray.

There was no return address.

Only my name, written in elegant black ink.

My heartbeat quickened.

"Don't touch it," Ethan warned.

The security officer carefully opened the box while everyone watched.

Inside lay a single fountain pen.

Beneath it was a folded note.

Every author's final chapter begins with one last sentence.

The room fell silent.

Ethan picked up the note with a gloved hand, his expression hardening.

"This isn't a prank anymore."

I looked at the pen, my stomach twisting.

Whoever was behind this knew exactly who I was—and exactly how to frighten me.

Outside the estate walls, a black SUV idled beneath the shade of tall trees.

Vanessa lowered her binoculars and smiled.

"Let's see how long she keeps writing when every page feels like a threat."