Chasing Sandro: A Dangerous Obsession

Chapter 41: A Web of Deception

The Marcos estate, nestled in the heart of power and privilege, was quiet in the early hours of the morning. Inside, Atty. Liza Marcos sat at the dining room table, her tablet and phone set before her, as she sifted through legal documents for the day ahead. Across from her, her husband, BBM, worked through political updates and plans for an upcoming event. It was a routine day, one of many in their busy lives.

Yet, despite the usual hum of their professional responsibilities, something had been gnawing at Liza for days. Her son, Sandro, had always been good at checking in, no matter how hectic his life became. But over the past week, his responses had grown unusually brief, vague even, and that was unlike him.

She glanced at her phone once more, scrolling back through the messages she had received from him.

**The Recent Messages**

"Hey, Ma. Sorry, really busy with some projects this week. Everything's fine. I'll check in later."

That had been the first text, followed by a string of equally short replies over the last few days:

"Still tied up with meetings. I'll call soon."

"Working late, don't worry."

"Things are a bit crazy, but I'm handling it."

It wasn't unusual for Sandro to be busy—his career as a congressman was filled with long hours and demanding schedules—but something about these messages didn't sit right with her. They felt off, as though there was no real substance behind them.

BBM, noticing his wife's distraction, looked up from his laptop. "What's on your mind?"

Liza sighed, setting her phone down. "It's Sandro. He's been distant lately. I know he's busy, but these replies don't feel like him."

BBM frowned, taking his phone out to check his own recent messages from their son. He, too, had noticed the brevity of the texts, but hadn't given it much thought—until now.

"You think something's wrong?" he asked, his tone serious.

"I'm not sure," Liza replied, concern flickering in her eyes. "Maybe I'm overthinking it, but I haven't heard his voice in days. He always calls, no matter how busy he is."

BBM nodded thoughtfully, leaning back in his chair. "He's been swamped with projects. Maybe it's just that."

Liza tried to brush the feeling off, but something inside her wouldn't let go of the nagging doubt. Sandro had never been the type to completely withdraw, especially not from his family. She stared at her phone again, tempted to call him, but instead typed another message:

"Hey, sweetie. We're thinking of you. Please give us a call when you get a minute."

Meanwhile, in a hidden corner of the city, Bella sat in a dimly lit room, Sandro's phone in her hand. The screen glowed softly, casting a pale light across her face as she scrolled through his text messages. Each message from Atty. Liza and BBM was like a ticking bomb, reminding her of the risk she was taking. She couldn't let them find out about the kidnapping—not yet.

Sandro's parents were powerful, influential figures, and if they realized something was wrong, her carefully crafted plan would unravel faster than she could control. But she had planned for this. She had thought through every detail, and so far, she had been able to keep up the illusion that Sandro was just busy with work.

Bella's hands trembled slightly as she typed a response to Atty. Liza's latest message:

"Hey, Mom. Sorry for not calling—things have been really hectic. I promise I'll make time for a proper chat soon. Love you."

She hesitated before hitting send, rereading the message to make sure it sounded like him. Over the past week, she had studied Sandro's mannerisms, the way he spoke to his parents, the phrases he used. Her responses had to be flawless, or they would start to suspect something was wrong.

Once satisfied, Bella pressed send and let out a shaky breath. She couldn't afford to make a mistake, not now. Sandro's family had no idea he was gone, and as long as she could keep up this facade, she would maintain control.

But as she stared at the phone, a sliver of doubt crept in. How much longer could she keep this up?

Back at the Marcos estate, Liza received the reply and frowned. She handed the phone to BBM, who read the message with the same wary expression. "He says he's fine," BBM muttered, but his tone lacked conviction.

Liza shook her head. "I don't know. Something still doesn't feel right. I think we should call him."

BBM agreed, dialing Sandro's number immediately. The phone rang once, twice, and then went to voicemail. BBM hung up and tried again, but there was no answer.

Liza's concern deepened, her mind racing. "It's strange. He always answers."

BBM, though troubled, tried to remain calm. "Maybe he's in a meeting or his phone died. Let's give it some time."

But Liza wasn't satisfied with that. The uneasy feeling that had been simmering in her chest for days now felt like a full-blown alarm. She knew her son, and this wasn't like him. She could sense when something was wrong, and her instincts were screaming that something was off.

"I'm going to contact his assistant," Liza said, rising from her seat. "Maybe they can give us an update on his schedule."

BBM nodded, watching as his wife quickly pulled up the contact information. They couldn't ignore this any longer.

As Liza reached out to Sandro's office, Bella's grip on her phone tightened. She had known this moment would come eventually—that Sandro's parents would grow suspicious if he didn't contact them directly. And while she had been able to buy herself some time, the clock was ticking.

Bella had kept Sandro in the dark about the extent of her manipulation, but even he would soon realize what she had done if his parents began digging deeper. She needed to act fast, to control the narrative before they took matters into their own hands.

She stood, pacing the room as she considered her options. Should she let Sandro speak to his parents, just long enough to ease their worries? No, that was too risky. He could give something away, or worse, they might pick up on the fear in his voice.

No, she couldn't let that happen. Not yet.

But how long could she keep up this charade?

Later that evening, Liza sat in her office, her phone clutched tightly in her hand. She had spoken with Sandro's assistant, who had assured her that he was indeed busy with meetings, but something still didn't sit right. The assistant had been vague, careful with her words, as though she was hiding something.

Liza's maternal instincts were on high alert. She had always trusted her gut, and right now, it was telling her that something was very, very wrong.

BBM walked in, concern etched on his face. "Any luck?" he asked, though he already knew the answer.

Liza shook her head. "No. I don't care what anyone says—something's not right."

BBM sat beside her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "We'll get to the bottom of this."

Liza nodded, but deep down, her mind was already racing with possibilities. She wouldn't stop until she knew the truth, no matter how deeply it was hidden.