Chapter 104: The Photograph He Kept

Chapter 104: Chapter 104: The Photograph He Kept

Audrey did not remember walking to the elevator. She did not remember pressing the ground floor button.

She just moved on pure, automatic autopilot.

The heavy metal doors slid open, and the chaos of the hotel lobby immediately hit her. Dozens of international sports reporters were still gathered near the exit. The second they saw her press badge, they completely surrounded her.

"Miss Ellis!" a reporter shouted, shoving a small microphone forward. "How was the interview?"

"Did Calloway reveal anything off the record?" another journalist pressed quickly. "Are there more buyouts coming?"

Audrey stopped walking. She forced a polite, perfectly practiced smile onto her face.

"The interview went very well," Audrey answered smoothly. Her voice did not shake at all. "Mr. Calloway was incredibly professional. All the details regarding the financial expansions will be in tomorrow’s exclusive feature. Thank you."

She gave a polite nod, pushed past the microphones, and walked out the glass doors into the waiting taxi.

She was entirely calm on the outside. But internally, she could not even feel her own hands.

---

The executive boardroom on the top floor of the Calloway Football Group building was completely silent.

Twelve board members sat around a massive glass table. They were currently discussing a billion dollar broadcasting contract.

Mason sat at the head of the table. He was looking directly at the printed contract in front of him.

He was not reading a single word.

His mind was completely stuck on a pair of honey colored eyes and a quiet voice asking if he was happy.

"The projections for the Asian market look incredibly strong," the financial director concluded. He looked down the table. "Do you agree, Mr. Calloway?"

Silence.

Mason continued staring blankly at the paper.

The executives exchanged nervous glances. Mason never lost focus. He was famous for being the absolute sharpest, coldest businessman in the room.

"Sir?" the director asked softly.

Mason blinked. He snapped his head up. His dark eyes instantly hardened back into ice.

"I agree," Mason stated coldly. "Finalize the paperwork by Tuesday."

He stood up. The meeting was officially over. The board members quickly gathered their files and filed out of the room.

Mason remained standing by the window. His young assistant stayed behind, organizing the empty coffee cups on a silver tray.

"Sir," the assistant asked quietly. "The sports daily called. Should I schedule Miss Ellis for the follow up interviews next month?"

Mason went completely still.

He looked out the window at the busy city below.

"No," Mason answered flatly.

The assistant nodded and wrote it down. "Understood. I will assign a different reporter."

"No," Mason repeated. His voice was rough. He turned around and looked directly at the assistant. "I will handle her personally."

"You want to handle the follow-up interviews yourself, sir?"

"Yes."

"All of them?"

Mason’s expression hardened.

"Any interview involving Miss Ellis."

---

The international departure terminal was loud and crowded.

Audrey sat alone in a cold plastic chair near her gate. She stared blindly at the massive airplanes sitting on the runway.

Seven years ago, she had cried on a dirty floor in an airport just like this one. She had missed his flight. She had arrived entirely too late. Now, she was sitting in another airport after finally looking him in the eyes again.

It was a cruel, twisted parallel.

Audrey let out a long, shaky breath. She opened her leather notebook to review her digital recordings. She needed to start typing the draft before she boarded.

She looked down at her handwritten notes.

Her heart dropped straight into her stomach.

There were no financial figures on the page. There were no quotes about youth academies or broadcasting rights.

Instead, she saw the margins of her paper. She had mindlessly scribbled a single name over and over again while she was waiting in the hotel lobby.

Mason Calloway.

Mason Calloway.

Audrey felt a hot wave of pure panic wash over her. She gripped the edge of the page, slowly tore it out of the notebook, and crumpled it into a tight, tiny ball in her fist.

---

Her cell phone buzzed loudly on the metal seat next to her.

Audrey jumped. She picked it up and saw Alexander’s face on the screen. It was a video call.

She quickly smoothed her hair, forced a bright smile onto her face, and answered the call.

Alexander was sitting in his bright, modern dressing room. He was wearing a casual white shirt. He looked entirely comfortable and incredibly handsome.

"Hey," Alexander smiled warmly. "How did it go?"

"Good," Audrey lied smoothly. "It went really good."

"Did the scary billionaire survive your questions?" Alexander joked. He picked up a bottle of water and took a sip.

Audrey forced a small, airy laugh. "He survived. Barely."

Alexander smiled back, but then he leaned closer to his phone camera. His warm eyes scanned her face carefully. He noticed the heavy tension in her shoulders. He noticed the slight redness around her eyes.

"You look tired, Audrey," Alexander said softly.

"I am just exhausted," Audrey replied quickly. "The jet lag is completely destroying me. I just want to sleep in my own bed."

Alexander nodded slowly. He believed her. He had no reason not to trust her.

"Get some sleep on the plane," Alexander told her gently. "I will have dinner waiting when you get home."

"Thank you," Audrey whispered. "I will see you soon."

She hung up the phone. She looked at her dark screen. A terrible, heavy guilt settled deep in her chest.

Alexander was completely perfect. But as she sat in the loud airport, she felt a tiny, terrifying crack form in the foundation of her settled life. Something felt entirely different now.

---

Ten minutes before boarding, her phone rang again.

This time, it was a regular voice call. Audrey answered it and pressed the phone to her ear.

"I got the draft you emailed," Ben announced immediately. He did not say hello. He was entirely in editor mode.

"Is the formatting okay?" Audrey asked, pulling her laptop out of her bag.

"It is an excellent interview," Ben said. "The quotes are sharp. The financial details are completely accurate."

He paused for a long moment.

"But you are missing something," Ben added quietly.

Audrey frowned. She stopped unzipping her bag. "What am I missing? I covered the expansion plans exactly like the Chief wanted."

"I know," Ben said. He sighed heavily into the phone. "But your articles always have one specific paragraph, Audrey. You always write a section that tells me what the subject could not say out loud. You read between the lines. This one does not have it."

Audrey swallowed hard. "It is a business piece, Ben."

"It is technically perfect," Ben argued firmly. "But it feels completely empty."

Audrey went totally silent.

She stared at the crumpled piece of notebook paper in her hand. Ben did not know he was talking about Mason. He was just doing his job.

But his words cut incredibly deep. He was completely right. The article felt empty because she was hiding the truth. Ben was unknowingly describing her exact emotional state.

"I will fix it on the plane," Audrey whispered weakly.

"Make it count, Ellis," Ben instructed, and then he hung up.

---

It was incredibly late that night.

The city was dark and quiet. Mason stood alone in his massive, luxurious penthouse.

He walked into his private study. He bypassed the expensive artwork and the modern leather furniture. He walked directly to his heavy mahogany desk.

He pulled a small silver key out of his pocket. He unlocked the bottom drawer.

He had not opened this drawer in years. He had promised himself he never would again.

Mason slowly pulled it open. There were no corporate files inside. There was no money.

Inside the dark drawer sat a small, cheap plastic Westbridge University student ID holder.

Mason reached in and picked it up. His large fingers gently slid a faded, slightly bent photograph out of the plastic sleeve.

It was not a romantic picture. They were not kissing or hugging. It was just a candid photo the journalism club had taken during a loud football interview years ago. Jackson was in the front, yelling at the camera.

But Mason was not looking at Jackson.

He was looking at the background. Audrey was standing near the edge of the frame. She was wearing a bulky yellow sweater, laughing brightly at something completely outside the picture.

Mason looked at her smiling face for a very long time. His jaw tightened. For a moment, the cold expression he wore so easily was nowhere to be found.

He carefully slid the photo back into the plastic holder. He set it down, pushed the drawer shut, and locked it again.