Chapter 3

The fluorescent lights flickered overhead, casting eerie shadows that danced against the cold, concrete walls of the room. Archie sat slumped in a metal chair, his face bruised and his uniform bloodied, his body ached with every movement.

The police officers circled around him like vultures, their eyes gleaming with sadistic pleasure. “Thought you were tough?” one officer sneered, his voice dripping with contempt. “Why don’t you show us the way you bullied the mayor’s son, huh?”

Archie opened his mouth to say something but he was silenced with a blow to the stomach. He winced as the sharp pain shot through his battered body like lightning.

The officer was about to land him another blow when his pocket vibrated. He hesitated mid-swing, a look of annoyance flashing across his face as his phone rang. With a muttered curse, he stepped aside to answer it, leaving Archie sprawled on the cold, hard floor, his body trembling with pain.

As the officer conversed in hushed tones, the rest of the group seized the opportunity to heap further humiliation on Archie. They laughed and jeered, their mocking voices echoing off the walls.

After what felt like an eternity, the head officer ended his call and strode back towards Archie.

He glared at Archie’s battered form on the ground, his face etched with disgust then muttered under his breath. “What a waste of existence.”

With a dismissive sneer, he turned away from Archie’s prone form and ordered his fellow officers. “Take him back to his cell.”

After a final, vicious kick, the officers dragged Archie’s battered body across the grimy floor, their laughter ringing in his ears as they threw him into the darkness of his cell. Metal clanged as they slammed the gates shut and bolted it.

The heat of the injury stung his face. He shivered in the cold, his body trembling with exhaustion and fear. 

As Archie laid in the darkness, the weight of his disappointment in himself hung heavy in the air. He couldn’t shake the feeling of letting his parents down, knowing that they were already living on scraps and struggling to make ends meet.

Even though he was frustrated by this harsh reality, he was mostly fed up with being picked on for circumstances beyond his control.

His hands trembled as they closed into a fist, all he prayed for was one opportunity to turn things around and when that happens...

Everyone must have a taste of their own medicine.

The stale scent of breakfast lingered in the air as Archie’s cellmates chattered amongst themselves, their trays filled with a mishmash of unappetizing food. Archie watched from his corner, his stomach churning with hunger but the state of the food forbidding him to swallow a morsel.

As he poked at his meal, he felt the weight of their stares. As his fellow inmates whispered to one another. A feeling all too familiar to Archie.

Then, a group approached his table, sizing up the new guy. 

“Isn’t your food good enough for you, huh, Williams?” they taunted. 

Archie tried to ignore them, but it only spited their anger. He slammed his hands on his table.

“Because you go to a fancy school, you think you’re better than us?” another chimed in, his tone laced with hostility.

Before Archie could react, the largest inmate seized him by the collar, his knuckles white with tension as he raised a fist, ready to strike. 

But the sudden commotion outside the cell brought their confrontation to an abrupt halt. Whispers of an influential visitor spread like wildfire, igniting a frenzy of excitement among the inmates.

The bully released his grip on Archie, his attention diverted by the promise of something more intriguing. As the crowd surged toward the gates, Archie breathed a sigh of relief.

The gate was unlocked and the officers stepped in. Chaos ensued as they maneuvered through the throng, singling out Archie and leading him away from the ward.

“You’re lucky someone of such status gives a damn about you,” The man muttered under his breath as he unlocked the handcuffs. 

Archie rubbed his wrists, sore from the metal restraints, his gaze searching the officer’s face for answers. 

The officer’s expression was now tinged with a hint of grudging respect.

“You’re free to go.”

As Archie emerged from the cold, imposing walls of the police station, the harsh glare of the midday sun stung his eyes. 

Standing on the bustling sidewalk, Archie felt utterly adrift. A heavy sense of guilt washed over him, he had nowhere to go. He couldn’t face the shame of telling his parents that he had been expelled and lost his scholarship over a girl.

With a heavy heart, Archie absentmindedly scrolled through his phone, his thumb hovering over his mother’s contact. 

At that moment, a sleek black van pulled up to the curb in front of him. Archie watched as the door slid open, revealing a hefty figure clad in a tailored suit and dark shades.

With a respectful bow, he addressed Archie in a calm tone.

 “Young Master,”