"Right now? No." Mason huffed. "Or they are at least pretending to not know. Either way, I'd like it to continue." His lips tightened. "My part of the family fortune continues to hit a specific bank account created for just that on a monthly basis." Mason smirked. "I didn't buy The Chamberlain's Men with my charm and good looks."
Mason adjusted in his chair as he sighed. "I was originally exiled to a family estate in England. When that didn't work I was...given permission...to take my contrary arse to New York City. But I screwed up. I openly had a ball doing whatever and whomever I wanted. When the family saw the tabloids, learned what I was doing, they threatened to expose certain skeletons in my lovers' closets." He pointed at himself. "Not me. They didn't threaten me. They went after those close to me. So I left New York. Moved to the most remote shithole I could find. I bought the house, the bar then set out to keep everyone away from me."
Here he paused, his eyes turning to look out a window. "Until you."