Chasing Sandro: A Dangerous Obsession

Chapter 92: Sandro's Devotion

The soft morning light filtered through the large windows of Sandro's office, casting long shadows on the walls. He stood by his desk, staring out at the horizon, his mind deep in thought. For weeks, he had been grappling with everything that had happened between him and Bella—the lies, the manipulation, the darkness they had both endured. Yet, despite it all, something had changed in him. Something that had once been clouded by confusion and anger was now clear.

He loved her.

Not because of her money, her influence, or even the intensity of her feelings for him. He loved her because, at her core, Bella was someone who had been deeply misunderstood, including by herself. And despite the pain and chaos they had both caused, he realized he saw something in her that he had never allowed himself to admit: vulnerability, the desperate desire to be loved, and a willingness to change.

He turned around, eyes falling on the door. Beyond it, Bella was waiting in the sitting room, her heart as fragile as ever. The same woman who had once secretly pulled the strings to control his life now sat, unsure if he would even want her in his future.

Sandro took a deep breath and made his way toward her. When he opened the door, Bella's eyes shot up to meet his. She looked tired—emotionally drained—but there was a softness in her gaze, a silent plea for something she didn't dare ask for.

He moved toward her and sat beside her on the couch, close enough that their knees touched. Bella tensed slightly, unsure of what was coming next.

"I've been thinking a lot about us," Sandro began, his voice steady but gentle. "About everything we've been through. And everything that's happened."

Bella's face tightened, her fingers nervously fidgeting in her lap. "I know," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "I'm so sorry, Sandro. I know I can never take back what I've done. I know it was wrong—everything. You should hate me."

Sandro reached for her hands, stilling her nervous movements. "Bella," he said softly, "I don't hate you."

Her eyes widened, disbelief flickering across her face. "How can you not? After everything I did to you, after everything I—"

"Because I see you now," Sandro interrupted, his tone firm but kind. "The real you. And I know that deep down, you didn't do all of this because you wanted to hurt me. You did it because you were hurting, too."

Tears welled up in Bella's eyes, and she blinked them away, unwilling to let them fall. "I never meant to hurt you," she whispered. "I just didn't know how else to make you see me."

Sandro squeezed her hands, leaning in closer. "You don't need to force me to see you anymore. I see you now, Bella. The woman who's been through so much, the woman who lost herself in the process. But I also see the woman who's trying to change, the woman who's learning what love really is."

Bella let out a shaky breath, her heart pounding in her chest. "I don't know if I deserve your love," she confessed, her voice barely audible.

"You do," Sandro said without hesitation. "Because love isn't about deserving. It's about choosing. And I'm choosing you, Bella. This time, for real."

Bella's breath caught in her throat as she stared at him, her eyes searching his for any sign of doubt. But there was none. Sandro's gaze was steady, his expression filled with sincerity and determination.

"You're choosing me?" she repeated, her voice filled with disbelief.

Sandro nodded. "I am. But this time, we're doing it right. No lies, no manipulation, no obsession. Just us, learning to trust each other again, learning to love each other the way we both deserve."

Tears finally slipped down Bella's cheeks, but they weren't tears of sadness. They were tears of relief—of hope. For so long, she had believed that love had to be earned, that it had to be taken by force. But now, for the first time in her life, she realized that real love was a choice. And Sandro was choosing her.

"I don't know what to say," she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion.

"You don't have to say anything," Sandro said gently, brushing a tear from her cheek. "Just promise me one thing."

"What's that?"

"Promise me that we'll be honest with each other. No more secrets, no more games. Just honesty."

Bella nodded, her heart swelling with emotion. "I promise."

Sandro smiled, his thumb tracing small circles on the back of her hand. "Then we'll be okay. We'll figure this out together."

For the first time in what felt like forever, Bella believed him. She wasn't the same person she had been when this all began. She had grown, learned, and finally understood what it meant to love someone without conditions or control.

And now, as Sandro sat beside her, his hands holding hers with gentle warmth, she realized that this—right here, right now—was the beginning of something new. Something real.

They weren't perfect, and their past would always be a part of them. But they had the chance to start over, to build a relationship based on trust, honesty, and a love that wasn't tainted by manipulation or fear.

Sandro was choosing her, and for the first time in her life, Bella was ready to be chosen.