Chasing Sandro: A Dangerous Obsession

Chapter 9: A Public Figure, A Private Obsession

Bella stood in the back of the grand ballroom, hidden behind the sea of well-dressed guests who had gathered to support Sandro's latest political fundraiser. Crystal chandeliers hung overhead, casting a soft, elegant glow on the crowd. The air buzzed with chatter, laughter, and the clinking of glasses as waiters weaved through the room, offering champagne.

Sandro was the star of the evening, of course. He always was.

From her vantage point near the exit, Bella watched him, her heart pulling painfully in her chest as he worked the room with the same charisma that had drawn her to him in the first place. His suit was perfectly tailored, his dark hair neatly styled, and his smile—oh, that smile—had the power to light up the room. He was effortlessly charming, shaking hands, leaning in for brief conversations, his laughter rich and warm.

He was in his element, surrounded by admirers and political allies. But amidst all the attention and praise, Bella felt herself sinking further into the shadows, her presence unnoticed by everyone, including him.

She had been doing this for months—attending his events, always standing on the outskirts, never drawing attention to herself. It was safer that way, easier to maintain her anonymity. The last thing Bella wanted was to risk exposing the depth of her obsession. If anyone, especially Sandro, knew how deeply her feelings ran, how much of her life she had sacrificed for him, it would ruin everything.

So, she remained a ghost in his world, watching him from afar, content with the small victories she could claim—like seeing him succeed because of the resources and influence she had secretly funneled into his career.

As she stood there, sipping from a glass of champagne she hadn't even wanted, Bella's mind wandered back to the night on the balcony. The night when Sandro had spoken to her with a softness she had never heard before. The night he had touched her arm, smiled at her in a way that felt... personal. She had replayed those moments over and over in her head since then, dissecting every word, every glance, trying to convince herself that maybe, just maybe, Sandro felt something for her too.

But weeks had passed, and those moments of intimacy had faded into the background, overtaken by the cold reality of their relationship. Sandro had used her feelings that night. He had known exactly what to say to keep her tethered to him, to ensure her continued loyalty and financial support. And she had fallen for it, once again.

Bella clenched her glass tighter, her knuckles whitening as the realization settled over her like a heavy weight. Sandro didn't care about her. He cared about what she could do for him, about the money and connections she brought to his campaign. And still, despite knowing this, she couldn't tear herself away.

Her eyes followed him as he moved through the crowd, finally stepping up to the podium at the front of the room. The applause was deafening as he raised his hands to quiet the crowd, his presence commanding the room's full attention.

"Thank you all for being here tonight," Sandro began, his voice strong and confident. "I couldn't be more grateful for the support you've shown me, not just tonight, but throughout this campaign. Together, we're making real change."

Bella's heart swelled with pride as she listened to him speak. This was the man she had fallen for. His vision, his drive, his belief in something greater than himself—it was what had captivated her from the start. But alongside that pride was the bitter sting of knowing that no matter how much she gave to him, he would never see her as anything more than a faceless benefactor.

As Sandro continued his speech, Bella shifted uncomfortably, the ache in her chest growing stronger with each word. How much longer could she keep doing this? How much longer could she stand in the shadows, watching him rise higher and higher, knowing that he would never acknowledge her, never truly understand how much she had sacrificed for him?

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sudden sound of applause. Sandro had finished his speech, and the crowd erupted in cheers, some people even standing to give him a standing ovation. Bella clapped along with them, though her movements felt mechanical, her mind still racing with doubts and questions.

As the applause died down and the guests began to mingle once again, Bella found herself gravitating toward the exit. She couldn't stay here any longer, not tonight. The weight of her unspoken feelings was too heavy, and the sight of Sandro basking in the admiration of others only deepened the void inside her.

She was halfway to the door when she heard a voice call her name.

"Bella?"

Her heart froze.

She turned slowly, her pulse quickening as she saw Sandro approaching her, that same charming smile plastered on his face. For a moment, she couldn't breathe. How had he noticed her? She had been so careful to stay out of sight, to blend into the background. But now, here he was, walking toward her with the same casual ease that had always made her weak in the knees.

"Sandro," she managed, her voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions inside her. "I didn't expect to see you tonight."

He laughed lightly. "You're at my event. It'd be strange if I didn't notice you."

Bella forced a smile, though the knot in her stomach tightened. "It was a great speech. As always."

"Thank you," Sandro said, stepping closer. "I'm glad you could make it. I feel like I haven't seen you in a while."

Her breath caught in her throat at the implication of his words. Had he noticed her absence? Did he miss her? But before she could respond, Sandro's next words shattered whatever hope had started to form.

"I've been meaning to reach out," he continued, his tone businesslike now. "We have a few new projects coming up, and I could use your help. Your connections have been invaluable to the campaign."

Of course. It was always about the campaign.

Bella's smile faltered for just a second before she quickly recovered. "Of course. I'll be happy to help."

Sandro nodded, his smile softening. "You've always been one of my biggest supporters, Bella. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Her heart twisted painfully at his words. He had no idea. No idea how much she had done for him, how much she had sacrificed. And he never would.

"I'll reach out to you soon," Sandro said, glancing back at the crowd before giving her one last smile. "Enjoy the rest of the evening."

And just like that, he was gone, swallowed up by the sea of guests once again, leaving Bella standing alone in the corner.

She watched him for a moment longer, the familiar ache in her chest intensifying. No matter how much she gave, no matter how many times she helped him, Sandro would never see her for who she truly was. She was just another piece in his political puzzle, a convenient source of money and influence.

Bella turned toward the exit, her decision made. She would help Sandro, as she always did, because she still believed in his vision. But from now on, she would do it with her eyes open, fully aware of the game she was playing.

She had once believed that her obsession with him would lead to love, that someday he would see her as more than just a benefactor. But that dream had died long ago, replaced by the cold reality of their relationship.

As she stepped out into the night, the cool air hitting her face, Bella made a vow to herself. She would remain in the shadows, unnoticed and unseen. But from now on, she would do it on her own terms.

Sandro may never love her, but she still held power. And if she couldn't have his heart, she would at least have control over his future.