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And the Sky Broke Open When Love Forgot Where to Belong by Elen Ryn Mora 7

And the Sky Broke Open When Love Forgot Where to Belong by Elen Ryn Mora 7

And the Sky Broke Open When Love Forgot Where to Belong by Elen Ryn Mora 7 Summary

In Chapter 7 of “And the Sky Broke Open When Love Forgot Where to Belong,” the atmosphere is charged with tension as Charles issues harsh orders regarding Olivia’s punishment. Desperation fills Olivia as she protests against the bodyguards, who hold her tightly, dragging her through the mansion’s dark corridors. The oppressive dread culminates in a back room where her stepmother, Marianne, awaits with a belt, ready to inflict pain. Marianne’s cruel words cut deep, echoing the resentment she harbors towards Olivia, which only amplifies the girl’s anguish.

As the lashes rain down on Olivia, pain engulfs her, and she struggles to suppress her screams, biting her lip until blood fills her mouth. The physical torment is compounded by emotional turmoil as memories of Damien surface, reminding her of past moments that now feel tainted by her current suffering. In a moment of defiance amidst the pain, Olivia’s bitter laughter provokes Marianne further, igniting a volatile exchange between them. Marianne’s rage escalates as she calls for a stun baton, and Olivia’s body is subjected to electric shocks, leading to a devastating injury.

After regaining consciousness in her own bed, Olivia faces the aftermath of her ordeal. Despite her physical wounds, she shows resilience and compassion, insisting on helping Margaret, the maid, by offering her a bank card to escape the oppressive household. This gesture highlights Olivia’s strength and her desire to protect others even when she herself is suffering. As she prepares to leave the country, she reflects on the items Damien had given her, contemplating their worth and ultimately deciding to donate them to a charity auction.

The chapter culminates in a poignant moment at the auction, where Olivia encounters Damien and Amelia together, sharing an intimate kiss. This sight shatters Olivia’s heart, flooding her with painful memories of their past. The juxtaposition of their affection against her own isolation underscores her emotional turmoil, leaving her vulnerable and longing for connection. The chapter closes with Olivia grappling with her feelings, setting the stage for her continued struggle between pain and the hope for a better future.

Continue Regular Chapter Reading Below

**And the Sky Broke Open When Love Forgot Where to Belong by Elen Ryn Mora**

**Chapter 7**

Charles’s eyes narrowed, and a sense of urgency washed over him. He barked out orders to the bodyguards, his voice a sharp whip cutting through the tension in the air. “Did you hear Mr. Harrington? First, she’s going to get a serious beating! Then drag her to the family chapel and make her kneel! Don’t let her up without my permission!”

“Let go of me! You’re not my dad! You’re a monster!” Olivia’s voice was a fierce protest, filled with desperation as she thrashed against the iron grip of the guards. Each attempt to break free only resulted in her being held tighter, their hands like steel shackles around her limbs.

They dragged her through the dimly lit corridors of the mansion, the oppressive atmosphere thick with dread. In the back room, Marianne awaited her arrival, a belt in hand, her lips curled into a cruel smile that sent a chill down Olivia’s spine.

“You little bitch! Just like your tactless mother—never knew your place!” Marianne’s voice dripped with venom, each word a dagger aimed at Olivia’s heart. “Today, I’m going to teach you a proper lesson—for your dad!” With a swift motion, she raised the belt high above her head and brought it crashing down across Olivia’s back.

“Crack!”

The sound echoed painfully in Olivia’s ears, a jarring reminder of the reality she was trapped in. Pain ripped through her body, a searing fire igniting along her spine, and for a moment, her vision blurred into a haze of darkness. She bit down hard on her lip, the metallic taste of blood flooding her mouth, trying to suppress the scream that clawed at her throat.

One lash, two lashes, three…

Each strike seemed to be fueled by Marianne’s years of pent-up rage, the belt whipping down with brutal force as if it were meant to strip Olivia of her very essence. Olivia’s body convulsed in agony, cold sweat soaking through her clothes, her consciousness flickering like a dying candle.

In the midst of the torment, a memory flickered to life in her mind. Damien, with his furrowed brow, had once noticed the tension between her and her stepmother. “Do you want me to deal with her?” he had asked, concern etched into his features.

She remembered the nights she had sneaked away to her mother’s grave, the quiet solace it provided. Damien had found her there once, his coat draped around her shoulders, a silent gesture of comfort as he drove her home.

Those moments, once filled with an innocent warmth, now felt tainted. Had he ever envisioned that he would one day become the architect of her suffering?

“Cough…” A harsh rasp escaped her lips, and blood splattered onto the floor, a stark reminder of her reality. Yet, amidst the pain, a bitter laugh bubbled up, surprising even herself.

That laugh sent a shiver down Marianne’s spine, igniting her fury further. “What the hell are you laughing at, you little bitch!” she shouted, her voice a high-pitched screech.

Olivia lifted her head, her face marred with sweat and blood, eyes wild and feral, like a cornered wolf ready to fight back.

“I’m laughing at you,” she spat, each word laced with venom. “You and your daughter—born to live off other people’s leftovers. Trash, through and through.”

Marianne’s entire body trembled with rage, her fists clenching at her sides. “You-!” The belt was discarded, replaced by a more sinister weapon. She screamed at a nearby servant, “Go! Get me the stun baton!”

“Mrs. Westbrook, please don’t! You’ll kill her!” One of the elder maids, her voice trembling, tried to intervene, concern etched across her face.

“Get out of my way! Who asked for your opinion?” Marianne shoved her aside with a force that left the maid reeling, snatching the stun baton from the guard and swinging it with a savage intent toward Olivia.

Ah-

Electricity surged through Olivia’s body, each pulse driving pain deep into her bones, a sickening crack resonating as a rib snapped under the brutal force. Blood spilled from her lips as darkness enveloped her.

When Olivia finally regained consciousness, she found herself lying in her own bed, her body aching as if she had been trampled by a herd of wild horses.

Margaret, the maid, was quietly tending to her wounds, dabbing at the tears that fell from Olivia’s eyes, her voice barely above a whisper. “Miss Olivia… maybe you should just let Mr. Westbrook have his way. Why put yourself through this?”

Olivia shook her head weakly, her voice hoarse and strained. “Let my dad have his way? Bow to this family, and they’ll chew me up and leave nothing but bones.”

She paused, forcing a smile that felt more like a grimace, one that hurt more than any physical pain could. “Just a beating… and Amelia got her head hit too. Not a bad trade. I… can handle it.”

With a struggle, she reached beneath her pillow and pulled out a bank card, pressing it firmly into Margaret’s hands. “Margaret… take this…”

Margaret froze, startled by the sudden gesture, her hands waving in protest. “Miss Olivia! I… I can’t take this! I can’t accept your money!”

“Take it,” Olivia insisted, her voice steady despite the pain coursing through her. “I… set this aside a long time ago…”

“I’m leaving the country… probably won’t be coming back…”

“You’re the one my mom brought from her family… and now you’re stuck here… they’ll never treat you right. This money… it’s enough for you to live comfortably…”

“Listen to me… resign… and leave this place…”

Margaret looked down at the thin card, then back at Olivia, who lay battered yet still thinking of her. Tears brimmed in her eyes, and she felt herself nearly fall to her knees in gratitude.

Olivia quickly stopped her, her voice weak but coaxing. “Margaret… I’m kind of craving… your chicken noodle soup…”

“All right! All right! I’ll make it right away!” Margaret said, wiping her tears as she stood up and hurried to the kitchen, her heart heavy yet filled with a sense of purpose.

The room fell silent once more. Olivia stared at the cold, ornate ceiling, slowly closing her eyes, allowing despair and sadness to wash over her like a heavy tide.

In the days that followed, Olivia remained secluded in her room, tending to her injuries. Despite the pain, she began to pack her belongings, sorting through the remnants of everything Damien had given her.

He may not have loved her, but his generosity was undeniable. The items she had accumulated were worth nearly a hundred million in total.

At first, she contemplated tossing it all away, but then an idea sparked in her mind. She picked up her phone and called the owner of the upscale club she frequented. She had heard whispers of an upcoming charity auction and expressed her desire to donate several items.

The response was swift, inviting her to an event that very evening.

As dusk fell, Olivia carried several large boxes into the club, her heart pounding with a mix of anxiety and determination.

After handing the boxes over to the auction manager, she turned around, only to come face-to-face with Damien and Amelia, who were walking together, their laughter ringing in her ears.

Amelia clung to Damien, and when she caught sight of Olivia, a smug glint flashed in her eyes, a challenge dancing across her features.

Instinctively, Olivia dug her fingers into her palm, then released them, reminding herself that she had more important matters at hand. There was no need to waste her energy on their petty games.

Damien’s gaze lingered on her pale face for a fleeting moment before he turned away, his indifference cutting deeper than any physical wound.

As she settled into her seat, the lights in the club dimmed suddenly, casting an enchanting glow over the attendees.

The host stepped onto the stage, excitement bubbling in his voice as he announced a three-minute kissing segment before the auction officially began. Couples in the audience were invited to share a kiss, their affection showcased under the bright spotlights.

Olivia froze, her heart racing.

Spotlights scanned the dim hall, illuminating couples lost in their own worlds, sharing tender kisses.

She instinctively turned and, not far away, saw Amelia laughing as she wrapped her arms around Damien’s neck.

Damien looked down at her, a slight smile gracing his lips, and then leaned in, capturing Amelia’s mouth with his own.

In that moment, Olivia’s heart shattered, crushed by an invisible hand that left her gasping for breath.

A flood of memories surged through her mind, overwhelming her senses. Kisses with Damien had been passionate, possessive, even filled with lust… but never had they been tender or filled with genuine care.

Just then, a drunk playboy stumbled over, breaking her reverie. “Miss Westbrook, it’s lonely being on your own… let me keep you company…”

**Chapter 7**

Conclusion

In the aftermath of her harrowing ordeal, Olivia finds herself at a crossroads, grappling with the remnants of her shattered self-worth and the painful memories of love twisted into betrayal. The physical scars from Marianne’s cruelty may fade, but the emotional wounds cut deeper, leaving her to confront a world that feels increasingly hostile. Yet, amidst the chaos, a flicker of resilience ignites within her. As she prepares to leave the suffocating confines of her past, Olivia clings to the hope that her sacrifices will not be in vain. The act of donating her possessions becomes a symbol of her defiance against the oppressive forces that sought to break her spirit. With each item she relinquishes, she sheds a part of her old self, one that was defined by pain and subjugation.

As she stands in the club, surrounded by laughter and love, the sight of Damien and Amelia together serves as a painful reminder of the affection she longed for but never received. The moment feels like a cruel twist of fate, yet it also solidifies her resolve to reclaim her narrative. Olivia’s heart may be heavy with grief, but the darkness that envelops her is now met with an unwavering determination to rise above it. She realizes that the love she once craved from Damien was never truly hers to possess, and in that realization, she begins to forge a new path—one that leads her away from the shadows of her past and toward a future where she defines her worth. With the echoes of laughter surrounding her, Olivia steps forward, ready to embrace the unknown, knowing that love, in its truest form, starts from within.

What to Expect in Next Chapter?

**What to Expect in the Next Chapter?**

As the tension escalates in Olivia’s world, the next chapter promises to delve deeper into her struggle for survival and autonomy amidst the oppressive forces surrounding her. With the emotional wounds from her recent torment still fresh, Olivia’s resolve is about to be tested like never before. Will she find the strength to confront her fears and reclaim her identity, or will the weight of her family’s darkness consume her entirely? The stakes are higher than ever, and every decision she makes could lead to either liberation or further entrapment.

In the wake of her painful encounter at the charity auction, Olivia’s heart is shattered, but a flicker of determination ignites within her. As she navigates the treacherous waters of her relationships with Damien and Amelia, unexpected alliances may form, and hidden truths could surface. Will Olivia’s act of defiance inspire others to rise against the tyranny of the Westbrook legacy? Or will it only serve to deepen her isolation? Prepare for a whirlwind of emotions as secrets unfold, and the line between love and betrayal blurs. The next chapter will leave you breathless as Olivia grapples with her past while forging a path towards an uncertain future.

And the Sky Broke Open When Love Forgot Where to Belong by Elen Ryn Mora

And the Sky Broke Open When Love Forgot Where to Belong by Elen Ryn Mora

Score 9.9
Status: Ongoing Type:
And the Sky Broke Open When Love Forgot Where to Belong by Elen Ryn Mora

“The Woman Who Fell for an Iceberg”

They called her the untamable beauty of Zephyra.
Olivia Westbrook—a name that tasted like champagne and danger.

With a single glance, she could silence a room. Her beauty wasn’t delicate or soft; it was the kind that burned. People said men lined up like moths to her flame, each ready to lose everything just for her attention. But Olivia never cared. She moved through high society like a wild wind—dazzling, distant, untouchable.

Until the night her best friend made a careless bet that would rewrite her life.

“Liv, if you can make my uncle Damien fall for you, I’ll give you any of my cars. Name your prize.”

Olivia laughed, amused.
Damien Harrington—the man in question—was a legend.
CEO of Harrington Group, brilliant and ruthless, his mere signature could shift the market. He was also famous for his frost: cold, disciplined, impossible to tempt. No woman had ever lasted in his orbit long enough to melt him. Rumor had it he didn’t even look twice at anyone at the endless charity galas thrown in his name.

For Olivia, that made him irresistible. She’d never failed a challenge.
She accepted the bet with a confident smile and no hesitation.


The Beginning of the Bet

What she didn’t expect was fate’s cruel sense of humor.

On the very first night she crossed paths with him, she found Damien not in his usual composed state but drugged—his control stripped away, eyes glazed with pain and heat. She’d only meant to tease him, to start the game. Instead, she became his unwilling salvation.

That night changed everything.

By dawn, the infamous iceberg of the business world had cracked. And from that single accident, a storm began—three years of passion that consumed them both.

Behind closed doors, their chemistry was explosive.
In his office with its floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city.
In his jet’s private cabin high above the clouds.
In places no one dared to imagine.

The man who was once distant now couldn’t get enough of her. And Olivia—so sure of her independence—found herself falling. Slowly, deeply, helplessly.

She told herself it was just fun, just the thrill of winning.
But love crept in quietly—through small gestures, quiet moments, and the rare softness in his eyes when he looked at her.

She began to believe that maybe she had done the impossible.
That Damien Harrington, the untouchable king, might actually belong to her.


The Sapphire Cufflink

Three years passed like a fever dream.
Then, one ordinary night, the illusion shattered.

After a stolen hour together in his car, Olivia noticed one of his sapphire cufflinks had fallen onto the seat. Smiling, she picked it up, intending to return it before leaving the hotel. She could already picture his small, almost imperceptible smirk when she handed it to him.

Down the dim hallway, she heard laughter behind a half-open door—the low, masculine sound of Damien’s associates. Then came a voice she knew too well, teasing and sharp.

“Damien, just finished with her, huh? Olivia’s always been a wildcat. Around you she turns soft. Makes me want to steal her away.”

More laughter followed.

And then someone asked the question that froze her blood.

“When are you going to marry her?”

For one suspended heartbeat, the world stopped.
Olivia’s breath caught.
Her heart, suddenly weightless, waited for his answer.

It came cold and clear, the same voice that had once whispered against her skin.

“It was just a fling. Why would I marry her?”

Ten words—light, casual, devastating.
They cut through her like ten shards of ice.

Silence followed, awkward and heavy. Even his friends seemed stunned.
Someone finally murmured, almost disbelieving:

“No way. Three years? You can’t still be hung up on your first love…”

First love?
The words rang in Olivia’s ears, foreign and cruel.
He has a first love?

Before she could process, Damien spoke again, his tone indifferent but tinged with something dangerous—nostalgia.

“When we broke up, she asked for three years. Time to try other people. If we still felt the same after that, we’d get back together.”

“She’s always been dramatic,” he continued. “Insecure. I went along with it. It’s been three years. I’ve tried.”
“She should be back by now.”

The floor seemed to tilt beneath Olivia’s feet.
Her body went cold, her fingertips trembling.

Three years.
The same three years she had spent giving him everything—her time, her pride, her heart—had all been just a placeholder.
He had been waiting for someone else.
And she… she had merely filled the gap.


The Confrontation

A hot roar filled her ears. Before she realized it, her hand was on the door.

Bang!
The heavy door slammed open.

Conversation stopped. Heads turned.
And there she was—Olivia Westbrook, standing in the doorway, her eyes wild, face pale, beauty turned feral with pain.

The laughter died instantly.
At the far end of the table sat Damien Harrington, immaculate in his tailored suit, posture perfect, eyes calm. He didn’t even flinch.

That calmness—the same stillness that once made her feel safe—now gutted her. If he felt anything for her, even an ounce, he would have looked startled, guilty, human.
But he only watched her, unreadable.

She took a step forward.
Her heels clicked like gunshots on marble.

“Damien,” she said, her voice raw, trembling. “Don’t you have anything to say to me?”

His gaze didn’t waver.

“Nothing to say,” he replied, voice smooth and detached. “Just what you heard.”

Each word sliced cleanly, leaving no room for hope.

“We were just a fling. I thought you knew that.”

Gasps rippled around the room. Olivia’s vision blurred.
But he wasn’t done.

He reached into his jacket, pulled out a sleek black card, and placed it on the table, the motion deliberate and slow.

“Here. A hundred million dollars.”

Her eyes widened.

“Consider it payment for the last three years at my beck and call.”

Then came the faintest curve of his lips—mocking, final.

“From now on, it’s over between us.”

He stood, ready to walk away as if she were a business deal concluded, a file closed and archived.


“But I’ve Fallen for You”

Rage, disbelief, heartbreak—all collided inside her.
As he brushed past, she reached out instinctively and clamped her hand around his wrist.

Her grip was iron, trembling yet unyielding. Her skin felt cold, bloodless.
He stopped but didn’t look at her.

And then came the words—shaking, desperate, tearing through the suffocating air.

“But… I’ve fallen for you!”

Her voice cracked, raw and naked.
Every eye in the room turned toward her, but she didn’t care. The proud, invincible Olivia Westbrook—who had never begged anyone for anything—was now pleading for the one thing she couldn’t buy.

“Damien, I’ve fallen for you!”

Memories flooded her mind like a cruel montage:

The winter morning he’d knelt to slip warm slippers onto her frozen feet because she was too lazy to move.
The night of her appendectomy when she’d opened her eyes to see him slumped beside her hospital bed, dark circles under his eyes.
The thunderstorms she feared—how he’d always pull her into his arms, whispering that the sound couldn’t hurt her.

She’d mistaken those moments for love.
Every laugh, every glance, every brush of his fingers—she’d built a world out of them.

And now, with one sentence, he had torn that world apart.

“Damien,” she whispered, voice trembling. “You’re so cruel.”

For a fleeting instant, something flickered in his eyes—pity, perhaps—but it vanished just as quickly when his phone buzzed.


The Message

He glanced at the screen, and Olivia caught the name before he could hide it.

[Damien, it’s been three years. I tried, but I still only love you. Let’s get back together.]

The words glowed like fire in the dim room.

Everything inside Olivia went silent.
So she was back—the first love, the woman who had left him with promises of reunion. The reason Olivia had been nothing more than a temporary distraction.

Damien stared at the message for a heartbeat longer, then sighed softly.
When he finally looked at Olivia again, his gaze held no warmth, no guilt—only weary detachment.

He reached for her hand, pried her fingers from his wrist one by one.

“Sorry,” he said quietly. “I haven’t fallen for you—ever.”

And with that, he turned and walked away.


The Fall

The sound of his footsteps echoed until it faded into silence.
Olivia stood frozen, her chest heaving, tears burning hot trails down her cheeks. Around her, no one moved—his friends stared at the floor, too cowardly to meet her eyes.

The black card still gleamed on the table between empty glasses and half-finished cigars.
A hundred million dollars.
Three years of love priced, packaged, and dismissed.

She laughed—harsh, hollow, disbelieving. The sound of someone who had just watched her own heart being auctioned off.

Slowly, she walked to the table, picked up the card, and snapped it cleanly in half. The sharp plastic edges cut into her palm, drawing blood. She didn’t even feel it.

“Keep your money, Damien,” she whispered to the empty room.
“You can’t pay off love.”

Then she left—head held high, though her legs trembled with every step.

Outside, the cold night air slapped her face, the city lights blurring through her tears. She finally let herself collapse against the hood of her car, her shoulders shaking silently.

For three years she had believed she’d tamed the unbreakable man.
But in truth, she had only been a chapter in his waiting story.


The Aftermath

Back in the suite, Damien’s phone buzzed again, but he ignored it. He poured himself a drink, staring out the window at the glittering skyline of Zephyra. The taste of her name lingered at the edge of his thoughts, though he’d never admit it. He told himself he felt nothing.

Down in the street below, Olivia’s car sped away into the darkness. She didn’t know where she was going—only that she needed to escape the weight pressing on her chest. Each passing streetlight carved streaks of gold across her tear-streaked face.

In that moment, she made a silent vow.
Never again would she be anyone’s experiment.
Never again would she mistake control for affection, or attention for love.

The next time Damien Harrington saw her, she promised herself, she wouldn’t be the woman who begged for his heart. She would be the woman who made him regret losing hers.


The Symbolic Ending

When dawn finally touched the city, Olivia was still awake—standing barefoot on her balcony, wind whipping her hair. Her mascara had run, but her eyes were fierce, defiant.

She took a long breath, letting the icy air fill her lungs.
Somewhere inside, amid the pain, a spark was lighting—a spark that would one day become fire.

Love had made her weak.
Betrayal would make her strong.

And though Damien had walked away without looking back, she knew something he didn’t: no man walks away from Olivia Westbrook unscarred.

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