Chasing Sandro: A Dangerous Obsession

Chapter 8: Heartbreak in Silence

Bella stood at the edge of the crowd, her hands clasped in front of her as she watched Sandro take the stage. His presence was commanding, his voice strong as he delivered a speech to his supporters, the room echoing with applause after every pause. He was magnetic—confident, powerful, the perfect politician. And Bella couldn't look away, even as her heart ached in her chest.

She had done this. All of it. Every success he now celebrated, every milestone he reached in his career, was because of her. The donations, the connections, the endless stream of support—all of it had been orchestrated by Bella, and yet she stood in the background, invisible to him. He was the star, and she was just the shadow.

The words he'd spoken to her that night on the balcony still echoed in her mind, teasing her with hope that maybe, just maybe, he saw her as more than a mere benefactor. His touch, his smile—they had sent her heart into a frenzy, and for a brief moment, she had allowed herself to believe that his feelings might be real. But it had been weeks since that night, and Sandro had returned to his usual ways, busy with his campaign and oblivious to the pain she carried.

She watched as he thanked the crowd, waving to his supporters, flashing that same charming smile that had captivated so many. But it wasn't for her. It never was.

Bella felt the familiar sting of heartbreak tighten in her chest, but she quickly masked it with a polite smile as people around her cheered and clapped. She had become an expert at hiding her emotions—something she had learned early on in her obsession with Sandro. Her love for him had never been reciprocated, and yet she stayed by his side, helping him rise higher and higher, even as it crushed her inside.

The night ended with the usual fanfare, Sandro shaking hands and posing for photos with supporters. Bella waited, as she always did, knowing that he would eventually come to her, offer a few words of gratitude before moving on to the next person. It was routine by now, but every time, it left her feeling emptier than before.

When Sandro finally approached her, his smile was warm but distant. "Bella," he greeted, his voice smooth and polished. "Thank you for coming tonight. Your support means everything."

"Of course," Bella replied, her voice steady despite the pain she felt. "I wouldn't miss it."

"You've done so much for me," Sandro continued, placing a hand on her arm. It was a gesture of gratitude, nothing more, but it sent a jolt of longing through Bella's heart. "I really don't know how to thank you enough."

"You don't need to," Bella said softly. "I'm just happy to see you succeed."

Sandro's smile faltered for a brief second, but he quickly recovered. "Well, I'll be in touch soon. We have some big plans coming up, and I'll need your insight, as always."

Bella nodded, forcing another smile. "I'll be there."

He squeezed her arm lightly, then moved on to the next person, leaving Bella standing alone in the crowd once again. She watched him go, her heart heavy with the weight of unspoken feelings.

As the room emptied and the evening came to a close, Bella found herself retreating to the quiet corners of the venue, away from the noise and the people. She needed a moment to collect herself, to breathe through the ache that had been gnawing at her for so long.

How long could she keep this up? How long could she continue to support Sandro, to pour her heart and soul into his career, knowing that he would never truly see her the way she wanted? Every donation, every favor, every strategic move she made for him only deepened the chasm between them. He saw her as a benefactor, an ally, maybe even a friend—but never as the woman who loved him more than anything.

The worst part was that Bella knew Sandro wasn't cruel. He wasn't deliberately hurting her. In fact, he probably didn't even realize the extent of her feelings. To him, their relationship was strictly professional, despite the occasional flirtation that made her heart race. But for Bella, every interaction was laced with unspoken love, every glance a reminder of what she could never have.

As she leaned against the wall, staring out at the empty room, a wave of exhaustion washed over her. She had spent so much time and energy crafting Sandro's success, building him up to be the shining star he was now. And yet, she was nothing more than the woman behind the curtain, invisible to him and everyone else.

She thought back to the early days, when her obsession had first taken root. It had been innocent at first—admiration for a man with a vision, someone who seemed destined for greatness. But as time passed, her feelings had deepened, becoming something much more dangerous. She had crossed lines she never thought she would, using her wealth and influence to manipulate the world around Sandro, all in the name of love. But it was a love that had never been reciprocated.

The realization hit her hard, like a punch to the gut. Sandro would never love her the way she loved him. He would never see her as more than a useful ally, someone who could help him achieve his goals. And yet, despite this painful truth, Bella couldn't walk away. She was too far gone, too wrapped up in the web she had spun around them both.

But something had to change. Bella knew she couldn't keep living like this, hiding her heartbreak behind a mask of support and smiles. She had sacrificed so much for Sandro, but it was time to face the reality of their relationship. He didn't love her, and he never would.

Tears threatened to spill from her eyes, but Bella quickly blinked them away, refusing to let herself break down in public. She had always prided herself on her strength, on her ability to maintain control. But tonight, that control felt like it was slipping.

Before she could dwell on the pain any longer, Bella pulled out her phone and sent a quick message to her driver, asking him to bring the car around. She needed to leave before the emotions overwhelmed her.

As she made her way to the exit, she passed by Sandro one last time. He was still deep in conversation with a group of donors, his smile bright and genuine. For a moment, Bella allowed herself to imagine what it would be like if he turned and looked at her with the same warmth, the same affection. But he didn't. He never would.

Bella walked out into the night, the cold air biting at her skin as she waited for her car. The loneliness settled in around her, wrapping itself around her heart like a vice. She had spent so long building Sandro's career, but she had neglected herself in the process. And now, she was left with nothing but the hollow ache of unrequited love.

But as the car pulled up and she slid into the backseat, Bella made a silent vow to herself. She would continue to help Sandro, to ensure his success—because despite everything, she still loved him. But she would no longer let her feelings control her. If she couldn't have his heart, she would at least have her dignity.

It wasn't much, but it was something.

And for now, that would have to be enough.