Chasing Sandro: A Dangerous Obsession

Chapter 55: Sandro's Wrath

Sandro's footsteps echoed in the hallway as he made his way back to the room where Bella waited. His pulse thundered in his ears, fueled by a mix of anger, confusion, and betrayal. The quiet reflection he had tried to seek in solitude only fanned the flames of his rage. Everything—his career, his freedom, his entire life—had been controlled by her.

She thought it was love. She thought she was protecting him. But all she had done was destroy every sense of normalcy he once had.

As Sandro neared the door, his chest tightened. He could hear nothing inside, no movement, no sound. For a brief moment, he wondered if she had run, if the guilt of what she'd done had finally pushed her to leave. But he didn't believe that. Bella wasn't the type to run.

With a sharp twist, Sandro opened the door, stepping inside.

Bella was still there, sitting on the edge of the bed, her head hung low. She didn't look up as he entered, and for a moment, the silence stretched between them, heavy and unbearable.

But Sandro couldn't hold it in any longer. The rage that had simmered beneath the surface, the anger he had tried to contain, finally exploded.

"Do you have any idea what you've done to me?" His voice came out sharp, like a blade cutting through the air. Bella flinched but didn't look up. "Do you even realize how sick this all is?"

Her shoulders tensed, her hands clenching into fists in her lap, but she remained silent.

Sandro's anger only grew. "You took my life from me! You controlled everything without me even knowing. You manipulated me, you *kidnapped* me, Bella! All in the name of what? Love?"

Bella finally lifted her head, her eyes swollen from the tears she had shed earlier. She opened her mouth to speak, but Sandro didn't give her the chance.

"This isn't love," he spat, pacing the room now, his hands clenching into fists. "This is obsession. It's control. You didn't want to help me—you wanted to own me. You wanted to mold me into something you could manipulate, all because you couldn't handle the fact that I didn't love you back."

Bella's lips trembled, but she forced herself to speak. "I just wanted you to see me, Sandro. To see how much I cared—"

"*Cared*?" Sandro's voice rose, filled with disbelief. "You call this caring? You call lying to me, funding my career without my knowledge, having me *kidnapped*—caring?"

Tears spilled from Bella's eyes as she stood up, her voice shaky. "I didn't know what else to do. You didn't notice me, no matter how much I tried. I thought if I could just—"

"You thought wrong," Sandro cut her off sharply. "You thought that controlling my life, making decisions for me, would somehow make me love you? That's not how it works, Bella. You don't get to play god with someone's life just because you're afraid of being alone."

Bella took a shaky breath, wiping at her tears, but Sandro's anger only grew with every word that left her lips. The fact that she still didn't seem to understand, still didn't grasp the enormity of what she had done, infuriated him.

"You ruined me," he continued, his voice now trembling with the weight of his fury. "You've taken everything from me. My career, my freedom, my ability to trust anyone. I don't even know who I am anymore because of you. Do you know what that feels like?"

Bella's sobs grew louder, her whole body shaking as she collapsed back onto the bed, but Sandro couldn't stop. He had held back too much for too long, and now, it all came pouring out, uncontrollable.

"I trusted you," he said, his voice cracking under the weight of the emotion that coursed through him. "I trusted you with parts of my life, and you took that trust and turned it into something twisted and monstrous. You made me believe I was in control when all along, you were the one pulling the strings."

"I never meant to hurt you," Bella sobbed, her hands covering her face. "I just... I didn't know what else to do. I thought—"

"You thought you could break me into loving you," Sandro finished for her, his voice cold and hard. "But you can't force love, Bella. And you sure as hell can't control someone's life and expect them to feel anything but disgust."

Bella looked up at him, her face streaked with tears, her eyes filled with desperation. "Please, Sandro... I'm so sorry. I'll do anything to fix this. I'll make it right. Just—please, don't hate me."

"Hate you?" Sandro laughed bitterly, the sound harsh and sharp. "Bella, I don't even know what to feel about you anymore. You've made it impossible to see you as anything other than the person who ruined my life."

Bella's tears fell faster, but Sandro felt no sympathy. He was too far gone, too consumed by the rage and betrayal that coursed through him. All he could think about was how different things could have been—how different his life could have been—if Bella hadn't twisted everything in her obsessive desire to be seen.

"You're not a victim here," Sandro said, his voice hardening. "You did this. You made these choices. And now, you have to live with the consequences."

Bella's sobs quieted as she looked up at him, her face pale and drained. "What... what are you going to do?"

Sandro paused, the question hanging in the air between them. He hadn't thought that far ahead. All he knew was that he couldn't stay here, couldn't stay in this twisted web she had spun around them.

"I don't know yet," he admitted, his voice flat. "But I'm done with you. I'm done with all of this."

He turned toward the door, his body tense with the need to escape, to get as far away from Bella and everything she represented as possible. But before he left, he turned back one last time, his eyes meeting hers.

"You need help, Bella," he said softly, the anger in his voice now replaced with something colder. "But I'm not going to be the one to save you."

And with that, he walked out, leaving Bella alone with the crushing weight of her own actions, the silence now filled with the consequences she could no longer escape.