Chasing Sandro: A Dangerous Obsession

Chapter 12: The Heartache Grows

Bella sat in the darkness of her lavish apartment, the soft glow of the city's lights seeping through the large windows. She had poured herself a glass of wine, but it sat untouched on the coffee table, forgotten as her mind replayed the events of the previous evening over and over. The memory of Sandro's gentle yet firm rejection felt like a dagger twisting in her chest, an ache that she couldn't shake.

How had she let this happen?

She had always been so careful, always kept her emotions in check when it came to Sandro. From the beginning, she knew he was beyond her reach. Yet, despite that knowledge, her feelings had grown deeper and more consuming with every passing day, every favor, every anonymous donation.

The dinner had been a cruel tease, a flicker of hope that had burned too brightly before being snuffed out. Bella had thought, just for a moment, that Sandro might finally see her for who she really was—a woman who loved him more than anyone ever could. But in the end, he had pulled away, leaving her with nothing but heartache.

She sighed, leaning her head back against the plush cushions of the couch, her fingers playing with the delicate stem of the wineglass. How could someone who had given so much still feel so empty? How could the person she had sacrificed everything for not see the depth of her devotion?

Sandro's words from the night before echoed in her mind. *"You've done so much for me... but I can't give you what you want."*

Bella swallowed the lump forming in her throat, fighting the tears that threatened to spill. She had promised herself long ago that she wouldn't cry over him, that she would stay strong no matter what. But the weight of her unrequited love was beginning to suffocate her, and it took all her strength just to keep herself together.

Even after his rejection, her feelings for Sandro refused to fade. In fact, they seemed to grow more intense, more obsessive with each passing day. The more he distanced himself, the more she wanted him. It was a vicious cycle—one that Bella was beginning to fear she would never escape.

She hadn't seen him since that night. Sandro had sent a brief message thanking her for dinner, as if it were just another casual meeting, another routine conversation. The lack of emotion in his words stung, but Bella knew she couldn't show her hurt. She had to keep pretending, had to keep up the façade of being his most loyal supporter without letting him see the pain she was drowning in.

Bella stood and walked toward the window, gazing out at the sprawling city below. Sandro was out there somewhere, probably at another political event, shaking hands, giving speeches, being adored by the public. They loved him, saw him as a man of principle and integrity. But Bella knew the truth. She had been the one pulling the strings, ensuring his success, crafting his image.

And yet, for all the power she wielded over his career, she had none over his heart.

Her phone buzzed on the table, snapping her out of her thoughts. For a brief moment, hope fluttered in her chest—maybe it was Sandro. Maybe he had changed his mind, realized what she meant to him. But when she glanced at the screen, disappointment washed over her.

It was one of Sandro's campaign advisors, sending updates about the upcoming charity gala. They needed her support again, another large anonymous donation to secure the event's success. As always, they expected her to help without question, without thanks.

Bella clenched her phone tightly, her knuckles turning white. She had done this a thousand times before, but tonight, the request felt like an insult. How could they keep asking for her money, her resources, when Sandro wouldn't even give her the smallest piece of his affection?

For the first time in a long while, Bella hesitated. She wanted to say no. She wanted to pull away, to stop being the silent force behind Sandro's rise. But as quickly as the thought came, it was replaced by a familiar, gnawing fear. If she stopped helping him, if she walked away, she would lose her last connection to him. And that, more than anything, terrified her.

Taking a deep breath, Bella typed out a quick response, agreeing to fund the event, just as she always did. But as she hit send, a hollow feeling settled in her chest. This wasn't enough. Money, influence, manipulation—it wasn't enough to fill the void Sandro had left in her heart.

Her thoughts drifted back to the early days, when her obsession had first started to take root. She had been drawn to Sandro's charm, his charisma, the way he commanded a room with his presence. At first, it had been a simple crush, something innocent. But over time, it had transformed into something much darker, much more dangerous.

Bella couldn't pinpoint the exact moment when her feelings had shifted from admiration to obsession. All she knew was that now, she couldn't imagine a world where Sandro wasn't the center of her life. Every decision she made, every move she took, was for him. And yet, despite everything, he still couldn't see her for what she truly was—a woman willing to give up everything for his love.

She was trapped in a prison of her own making, bound by the very feelings she couldn't let go of. No matter how much pain Sandro caused her, she couldn't walk away. The idea of him with someone else, of him rising to power without her by his side, was unbearable.

Bella pressed her forehead against the cool glass of the window, closing her eyes. She knew she needed to regain control, to find some way to stop the spiral of heartache that had consumed her. But deep down, she wasn't sure if she even wanted to.

There was something intoxicating about the pain, about the depth of her feelings for Sandro. It made her feel alive, even if it was tearing her apart from the inside. And as much as it hurt, she wasn't ready to let go. Not yet.

The next time she saw Sandro, Bella promised herself that she would be stronger, more composed. She would hide the cracks in her heart and keep up the illusion of the perfect supporter, the loyal friend. Because as long as she could stay close to him, even if it was from a distance, she could keep the dream alive.

And maybe, just maybe, one day, he would realize what she had always known.

That no one would ever love him the way she did.