Chasing Sandro: A Dangerous Obsession

Chapter 4: Unrequited Love

Bella sat in her penthouse, surrounded by the trappings of her wealthy life, but all she could think about was Sandro. His face, his voice, the way he carried himself—it haunted her every waking moment. Her thoughts spiraled into a dizzying whirlpool of obsession and longing. But as much as she wanted to believe she was getting closer to him with each passing day, the truth was gnawing at her. Sandro didn't know she existed. Worse, when he did notice her, he seemed indifferent, almost cold.

She replayed the events of the last few weeks over and over in her mind, trying to make sense of it. She had been to every one of his public appearances, always positioning herself strategically in the crowd. She'd smiled at him, made eye contact whenever possible. But every time, his gaze slid past her as if she were just another face in the crowd. It was infuriating, painful even. How could he not see her? Not feel her presence, her influence?

Bella had tried to tell herself that it was enough to support him from behind the scenes, that her donations were the key to his success, but the reality was harder to accept. She wanted more than that. She wanted him to notice her, to look at her with the same intensity she felt for him. She wanted him to know how much she had done for him. But he didn't.

And then there were the events where she had tried to engage him more directly, though always from the shadows. Once, she had brushed past him at a gala, their arms barely grazing. The electricity she felt from that brief touch had sent a shiver down her spine, but Sandro hadn't even looked up. He had been too busy talking with one of his colleagues, his mind clearly elsewhere.

But what had hurt most was the night of the fundraising gala two weeks ago. It had been a lavish event, one where Bella had made sure she was dressed to perfection, standing at the forefront of the room, just steps away from Sandro as he mingled with the political elite. She had caught his eye for a brief moment, but instead of a spark, all she saw in his expression was polite disinterest.

She had felt her heart drop into her stomach as she watched him drift away, moving toward a group of donors without giving her a second glance. Bella had felt a rare sting of rejection that night—one she had never known before. She had everything anyone could ever want—money, beauty, power—but none of it seemed to matter to Sandro. She was invisible to him.

And now, sitting alone in her penthouse, the weight of that rejection settled heavily on her. For the first time in her life, she felt truly powerless. No amount of money or influence could change the fact that Sandro didn't care. He didn't even know.

Bella paced the room, her mind racing. She couldn't understand it. She had funneled millions into his projects, shaping his career, making sure every door was open to him. She was responsible for his meteoric rise, but he treated her like she was nothing—like she didn't exist.

"Why can't you see me?" she whispered, her voice barely audible as she stared out the window at the glittering city below.

Her reflection in the glass stared back at her, and for a moment, Bella didn't recognize herself. The woman she saw was no longer the confident, powerful heiress she had always been. She was vulnerable, fragile, her heart on the verge of breaking. How had it come to this?

The more she thought about it, the more the pain of Sandro's coldness consumed her. Bella had never known what it felt like to want something so desperately and not be able to have it. She had always been in control, always the one pulling the strings. But with Sandro, she felt helpless.

She tried to rationalize it. Maybe he was simply too focused on his work to notice her. Maybe he didn't have time for love or relationships. After all, he was a man on a mission, driven by ambition. But the more she tried to convince herself of that, the more hollow the excuses felt.

No, there was something deeper at play. Sandro wasn't just indifferent—he was deliberately distant. Cold. She had seen the way he interacted with other women, with a kind of detached charm, never letting anyone get too close. He kept everyone at arm's length, and Bella wasn't sure if that was something she could break through. But she had to try.

Her heart ached with the thought that, despite everything she had done for him, Sandro might never love her. The idea of unrequited love, of pouring her soul into someone who didn't feel the same way, was unbearable.

"Why won't you let me in?" she whispered again, her fingers curling into fists as the frustration welled up inside her.

For weeks now, she had been operating under the belief that if she just supported him enough, if she just proved her worth, he would eventually come to her. But now, that belief was starting to crumble. Sandro didn't want her help. He didn't want her.

Bella's eyes burned with unshed tears as she realized the depth of her obsession—and the futility of it. She had never imagined that love could be this painful, this cruel. All the money in the world couldn't buy Sandro's affection. All her secret support, all her careful planning—it meant nothing if he didn't feel the same way.

She sank into the plush armchair by the window, her head in her hands. The weight of her unreciprocated love was suffocating.

But even in the midst of her despair, a darker thought began to take root in her mind. If Sandro couldn't love her willingly, maybe she could force him to see her. Maybe she had been going about this the wrong way. She had been subtle, cautious, waiting for him to notice her on his own. But what if he never did?

The thought sent a chill down her spine, but it also sparked something inside her—something dangerous. Bella had always been in control, and she wasn't about to let Sandro slip through her fingers now. If he wouldn't come to her willingly, she would find a way to make him.

The idea was terrifying, but it also gave her a strange sense of comfort. She wasn't powerless, not really. She still held the cards. Sandro's career, his success, it all depended on her. He just didn't know it yet.

And maybe it was time for him to find out.

Bella stood up, her resolve hardening. Her heart might be breaking, but she wasn't about to let that stop her. She had come too far, invested too much, to give up now. Sandro might not love her yet, but he would. One way or another, he would.

She would make sure of it.