Chasing Sandro: A Dangerous Obsession

Chapter 22: The Clock Starts Ticking

Bella paced nervously in her apartment, the weight of what she had set in motion sinking into her bones. She checked her phone every few minutes, waiting for the confirmation that the plan was underway. Her heart pounded in her chest, each beat echoing the ticking of an invisible clock. The moment she had been obsessively planning for months was finally here.

The night was eerily quiet, as if the city itself knew something was about to go wrong. Bella's stomach churned with a mixture of excitement and fear. Part of her wanted to back out, to call Luca and tell him to stop the whole thing, but it was too late. She had already made the down payment, already sent the details of Sandro's schedule. She had crossed the line, and there was no going back now.

Sandro's upcoming event—a small, private dinner with political allies—was the perfect opportunity. She had spent weeks studying his routines, noting the gaps in his security. Tonight, his guards would be lighter than usual. Luca's men would make their move as Sandro left the venue, when he was most vulnerable.

Bella replayed the plan in her head, going over every detail. The men would intercept Sandro on the street, force him into a black SUV, and take him to a secluded location far from the city. They would make it look like a typical political abduction, meant to scare and intimidate, not harm. Sandro would be shaken but unharmed, and Bella would orchestrate his rescue, swooping in as the hero.

She poured herself a glass of wine, trying to steady her nerves, but the liquid did nothing to calm her racing thoughts. Instead, it only heightened her sense of dread. The plan was perfect—on paper. But in reality, it was a tangled mess of risks, lies, and a desperate need for control. She had convinced herself that once Sandro was safe, he would finally see her, finally understand how much she cared. But deep down, Bella knew this was a dangerous gamble. If anything went wrong, the consequences would be devastating—not just for Sandro, but for her.

The clock on the wall ticked loudly, its steady rhythm matching her anxious heartbeat. She glanced at her phone again, willing it to light up with a message from Luca. Her mind raced with thoughts of what was happening. Were they already in position? Was Sandro getting ready to leave the dinner? Would he even suspect that tonight was different from any other?

She tried to distract herself by scrolling through social media, checking the news, anything to take her mind off what was about to happen. But every article, every post only reminded her of Sandro's growing influence, his rising popularity. He was becoming everything she had dreamed for him, but he remained as distant as ever.

Finally, her phone buzzed.

The message was short and direct: *We're in position. He leaves in 10 minutes.*

Bella's breath caught in her throat. This was it. The plan was officially in motion. She stared at the message for a long moment, her hand shaking as she set the phone down. Ten minutes. In ten minutes, Sandro would be taken, and her life would change forever.

She sat down on the edge of her couch, her heart hammering in her chest. Every second felt like an eternity, each tick of the clock a reminder that she was stepping deeper into a world of manipulation and deceit. But it was too late to stop now. She had committed to this course of action, and the only way out was through.

As the minutes passed, Bella felt her stomach twist in knots. She knew Luca's men were professionals, but the uncertainty of what was about to happen gnawed at her. What if something went wrong? What if Sandro fought back or his security team was stronger than expected? Her mind flooded with worst-case scenarios—Sandro getting hurt, Luca's men being caught, her involvement being exposed.

And yet, mixed with the fear was a sick thrill. Bella had never felt so powerful, so in control of her own destiny. For months, she had been on the sidelines, watching Sandro thrive while feeling invisible. But tonight, everything was different. Tonight, she was the one pulling the strings, the one determining his fate.

She imagined Sandro's face when he realized what had happened—his shock, his fear. And then, the relief when she came to his rescue. In that moment, he would see her as more than just a benefactor, more than just a shadow lurking in the background of his life. He would see her as the woman who had risked everything for him.

The clock struck midnight, and Bella's phone buzzed again.

*Target secured.*

Her heart skipped a beat. It was done. Sandro was in their hands.

Bella stood up, her legs weak with adrenaline. She walked to the window and stared out at the city, her mind reeling from the gravity of what she had just done. Somewhere out there, Sandro was being driven to an isolated location, completely unaware that the person behind his kidnapping was the same woman who had been funding his political career from the shadows.

The power of it all overwhelmed her. She had orchestrated this entire event, manipulated every detail to perfection. She was no longer the invisible woman in Sandro's life—she was the one controlling it. And soon, when she rescued him, he would finally see her as she wanted to be seen.

Bella's phone buzzed again.

*He's asking for help. We'll hold him until you give the go-ahead.*

She closed her eyes, her pulse racing. Sandro was scared, confused, vulnerable. Exactly how she had planned it. But now, the weight of her actions began to sink in. She had crossed a line she could never uncross, and the fallout would be irreversible.

The clock continued to tick, each second dragging her deeper into the consequences of her choices. Bella knew there was no turning back. The plan was in motion, and now, all she could do was wait for the right moment to play her part in the rescue.

As the night stretched on, Bella felt a chill run down her spine. She had always thought that once Sandro was taken, she would feel powerful, in control. But now, standing on the precipice of the chaos she had created, all she felt was fear.

Fear of what she had done. Fear of what was coming next. Fear of the ticking clock that counted down to the moment when everything would unravel.