Chapter 8

As he walked down the pathway leading to the gate and out of the Huttons family gate, Mason was still in disbelief that Samantha could actually accuse him, ask the guards to heat him and throw him out of the house after forcing him to sign the divorce papers.

As he limped away, he could not control the scoff that left his mouth.

"Mason oh Mason, look at your pathetic self. Even you cannot defend yourself in front of your wife." He belittled himself.

"No, she's actually my ex-wife! I am now a divorced man." He chuckled bitterly.

It had been three years. Three years of him suffering in the hands of the Huttons.

In those three years, he had lived a life worse than a dog's. At Least a dog gets to be fed by its owner and sleep in a good house. He on the other hand would only eat after he has worked for it. He could also count the number of times he would get a decent sleep without finding his bed drenched or forced to stay outside the house.

Those three years have taught him that in this society without money, you are as useless as a used tissue paper.

The Hutton family had used the harshest of words to look down on him, forced him to do embarrassing things and mistreated him too.

He was made to work harder than a slave without even a pay.

The only thing he would get was some worn out clothes that Samantha's brother threw away.

He didn't know when tears escaped his eyes. For the first time, he allowed himself to be vulnerable and let his sorrows out.

Mason always believed that being a man, crying was no option. It didn't matter how difficult things got, he never allowed himself to shed a tear. To him that was a sign of weakness, something he didn't believe should exist in a man's vocabulary.

But today, he went against his own principles, allowing his tears to slip, tasting the saltness.

That taste reminded him of how his life had been in the last three years and marking a new start for himself.

He swore to himself to work harder, a fire of vengeance burning his heart that he felt like he would burst out.

Gritting his teeth, he continued walking further, not even aware where his final destination would be.

What he knew was that he would have to get away from the Hutton family, get away from the people who have given him nothing but pure pain and torture.

With that determination, he knew he had to press on.

The Loud grumble from his stomach reminded him that he hadn't had anything to eat or drink for the entire day of course, apart from the steamed bun he had in the morning.

"Young master!"

Suddenly, five men stood in front of him, bowing their heads respectfully.

He recognized them instantly. They were the same men who arrived at the hospital with the old man.

But what could they be doing here, following him and insisting on calling Him their young master.

He was no master, maybe the master of poverty but nothing close to a young master of whatever powerful family they came from.

"What are you doing here? I already told you that you got the wrong person " Mason said indifferently, trying to suppress the rage in his heart.

His life had already come to this, must they complicate it with their insistence?

Why won't they just leave him alone to figure out what to do next?

At this point, all he was craving was some peace of mind and not having people cling on him and force an identity that doesn't belong to him.

"Young master, let us help you with your luggage." The men were adamant, even offering to help him.

Although Mason would have loved to receive some help, he didn't want to get entangled with this group of people. The far he stayed from them, the better for his sanity.

"No need, I can manage on my own. Go back and tell your leader that I'm not the person he's looking for. He should stop wasting his time." Mason turned them down, with a message to their leader.

Be could tell roughly that the men on black took orders from the old man from how respective they were to him at the hospital.

Ignoring them, he started walking away when one of the men received a call.

Answering it, he put it on a loud speaker, the voice of the old man echoing through the air.

"Where is the Young Master? The young miss has woken up and she won't calm down. She insists on seeing the young master."

Silence filled the air, nobody said anything. Mason could feel that all the eyes were on him. He turned to dismiss the old man and tell him to stop pestering when…

"Watch out!" A man shouted and the next thing Mason heard was the sound of gunshots.

"Protect the young master!" Another man shouted as they moved to shield him and fired back at the intruders at the same time.

Mason was made to hide behind a tree as the men in black fought off the group of what seemed as assassins.

From the look of things, they were going all out. That could only mean they were on a mission to finish off someone.

He couldn't help the dread that filled his heart when he thought that maybe the other side could have mistaken him as the young master like the group protecting him and were out on a mission to kill him.

He lamented at how cruel fate was to him.

He had just left a snake's hole not long ago just to find himself in a lion's den?

He smiled bitterly, wishing that he could have had a different ending than this.

The gunshots drew near and Mason could already tell that the assassins were approaching his hideout.

He peeked from behind the bush and his eyes landed on something or should he say a tattoo that had a flash of memories hitting him in full force, Making him hold his head from the pain he was experiencing at that moment.

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