Chasing Sandro: A Dangerous Obsession

Chapter 51: Sandro's Anguish

Sandro stormed out of the room, the door slamming shut behind him with a force that echoed through the empty hallway. His chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. Anger, betrayal, confusion—they all tangled together, each one fighting for dominance. He wasn't sure what he felt more: fury at Bella for what she had done, or confusion over how to process her heartbreaking confession.

He stumbled down the dimly lit corridor, his feet dragging as the weight of the past few days bore down on him. It was suffocating. Everything felt surreal. The woman who had orchestrated his kidnapping, who had stripped away his freedom, was the same person who claimed to love him more than anything else in the world.

But how could this be love? How could someone so twisted in their thinking believe that their actions could lead to anything but destruction?

Sandro's hands clenched into fists as he reached the stairwell, leaning against the cold railing for support. His mind replayed the scene over and over again—Bella's tear-streaked face, her desperate words, the pain in her eyes. For so long, he had been blind to her presence, brushing off her adoration as harmless. He had thought she was just another admirer, someone who wanted to be close to him because of his status, his power.

He never imagined it ran this deep.

He closed his eyes, trying to shut out the memory of her voice, but it lingered like a haunting melody. *"I just wanted you to see me."*

The words cut through him. He had taken her for granted, used her when it suited him, but never once had he truly seen her. Not like this.

But did that excuse her actions? Could anything justify the nightmare he had endured over the past few weeks?

Sandro gritted his teeth, the anger surging back to the forefront. No. What Bella had done was unforgivable. She had manipulated him, controlled him, ripped away every ounce of freedom he had. She had watched from the shadows as he suffered, all for the sake of a love that had spiraled into madness.

But even as he tried to hold onto the anger, the confusion gnawed at him. Was there a part of him that had contributed to this? Had his arrogance, his indifference, played a role in driving Bella to such extreme measures?

He let out a frustrated growl, pushing himself off the railing and continuing down the stairs. He couldn't afford to let his thoughts spiral like this. He needed to be clear-headed, focused. There were so many unanswered questions, and the weight of them pressed heavily on his mind.

What was he supposed to do now? Bella had been behind everything, and yet, despite her confession, she was still the same woman who had shattered his life. The woman he had once overlooked, now at the center of his every thought.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, Sandro stepped out into the night. The cool air hit his face, offering a brief reprieve from the storm raging inside him. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself.

But as much as he wanted to move past it, Bella's face kept haunting him. The brokenness in her eyes, the way her voice had trembled with every word—she wasn't the monster he had imagined her to be. She was... lost. Trapped in her own web of emotions, just as much a victim of her obsession as he was.

That realization unsettled him even more.

Sandro wandered down the empty street, his thoughts a jumbled mess. How was he supposed to feel? What was he supposed to do? Every step he took felt like it brought him further from the clarity he sought.

For the first time in his life, he didn't have the answers.

He stopped by a bench near the edge of the park, sinking down onto the worn wood. He buried his face in his hands, feeling the weight of everything pressing down on him. How could he reconcile the Bella he had known—the one who had supported him, funded his projects, always standing in the background—with the Bella who had taken away his freedom and played with his life like it was a game?

And yet, beneath the anger and confusion, something else lurked—a tiny, almost imperceptible spark of something he didn't want to acknowledge.

Sympathy.

Despite everything, he couldn't ignore the raw vulnerability Bella had shown him. Her confession had been a desperate plea for understanding, for forgiveness. But it was more than that—it was an acknowledgment of her brokenness, a cry for help from someone who had long since lost their way.

And that... complicated things.

Sandro leaned back against the bench, staring up at the night sky. The stars above twinkled faintly, indifferent to the turmoil brewing inside him. He wished he could be indifferent too, that he could simply walk away from this nightmare and never look back.

But it wasn't that easy. Not anymore.

Bella had crossed lines that couldn't be uncrossed, done things that couldn't be undone. But she wasn't the faceless villain he had imagined her to be. She was human—flawed, damaged, and hopelessly in love with him. And that realization left him more conflicted than ever.

What was he supposed to do now?

Sandro's thoughts drifted to the future. Could he ever truly forgive Bella for what she had done? Could he move past the betrayal and the lies, or would the memory of this twisted chapter of his life haunt him forever? He didn't know. And the uncertainty gnawed at him like a slow-burning fire.

For now, all he knew was that the anger, the confusion, the sympathy—they weren't going away anytime soon.

And neither was Bella.