I was invited for tea with the Psychopath Life Coach from Netflix who is ... trends now
When a psychopath with a history of violence, drug addiction and copious prison sentences offers you a cup of tea, you inevitably think twice.
Lewis Raymond Taylor, 33, is the Psychopath Life Coach. Eight years ago he was convicted for the 11th time after punching a man so hard the victim had a mini-stroke and a bleed on his brain.
Less than a decade later, Lewis is the CEO of $25million life coaching business The Coaching Masters and became an overnight celebrity following the release of a Netflix documentary about his life.
Even so, standing in the lift of his fancy Canary Wharf apartment block, I remembered what Lewis told the show: 'I always go too far. I'm always stamping on people's heads. I will always kick a man when he's down.'
His own mother called the former cocaine-sniffing thug 'relentless' and a 'manipulator'.
Others have questioned whether he really is someone who's turned his life around and is a determined entrepreneur, or whether he's a cunning cult leader wearing the 'deadliest disguise' who is not to be trusted.
I gulped. The lift was well above 150ft now. I hoped I wouldn't end the day being dangled from a balcony by a raging maniac.
The Psychopath Life Coach Lewis Raymond Taylor, 33, lives with his fellow life coach and wife Dayana, 28, and their ten-week-old son Ocean (pictured together)
Lewis told MailOnline his $25million business The Coaching Masters was not a cult, as some people have claimed
The 33-year-old is a former convict with a history of violence, drug abuse and addiction. Yet MailOnline was given exclusive access to step inside his Canary Wharf home and see the real Lewis
The father-of-one was on a mission to convince the world he was reformed and no longer posed a threat to people
With tattoos covering every inch of his body except his 'hands, penis and face', Lewis may not have the typical image of a mindful life coach
When I met Lewis, I was relieved. He was a little flashy with a Rolex, a slick haircut, veneers and the fact his £4,000-a-month rented flat had views in one direction of The Shard and the London Eye and in the other of the Thames and the Surrey countryside.
But he didn't seem threatening. He made me a cup of tea with a milk alternative (there was no other option) and introduced me to his American wife Dayana, 28, and their ten-week-old son Ocean.
We chatted and I inspected his bookshelf - there were stacks of self-help and motivational books and one about reclaiming your vagina and finding sexual pleasure.
I wanted to find out who the real Lewis was, whether he was still a violent thug and if he was actually, as some have claimed, in the business of conning vulnerable people out of thousands.
When I mentioned that the Netflix documentary showed footage of himself as a young man snorting a humongous line of cocaine in a prison cell, Lewis smiled.
'I had to throw myself under the bus to get some attention,' he told me.
In prison he was filmed snorting an extremely long line of cocaine with a rolled bank note
Other images from his violent youth showed a shocking side to the entrepreneur who founded a multi-million dollar company
As a youngster he would often get into fights and admitted he had a tendency to stamp on people's heads
Lewis would get blackout drunk and seek attention by starting fights, even if he would likely lose them
Even his own mother has thrown his character into doubt, saying he was 'relentless' and a 'manipulator'
'The media and Netflix like gory, horrible stuff.
'I can't lie and say I didn't have an influence in the documentary. I wanted to spark a conversation.'
Sitting beneath a painting of Buddha, he seemed to be a mix between a charming salesman and a zen hippie, albeit one who less than a decade ago was getting blackout drunk and beating people up.
He said: 'A lot of it was blacked out. I was in a haze. I've changed so much now that it feels a little bit like I'm telling someone else's story . Of course it's real, it's documented.
'I've got very light memories of doing those things but no flashbacks.'
These days, he's much more into mindfulness.
He said: 'If we can all get into the mindset of sharing what we have with other people, the world would be a much better place.
'Adversity can be turned into an asset.'
Some have called his business of training other life coaches a cult.
Some of his former customers claim that The Coaching Masters is a cult in part because many members have matching interlocking square tattoos - the company's logo
In a sit-down interview with MailOnline, Lewis said: 'We are not a cult. There's no brainwashing'
Speaking to MailOnline reporter Chris Matthews (left), Lewis (right) said he barely remembered committing the violent acts that saw him jailed
These days, Lewis is much more into mindfulness. He said: 'If we can all get into the mindset of sharing what we have with other people, the world would be a much better place'
A little over two months ago, he and his wife welcomed a baby boy, who they named Ocean
Former customer Louize Clarke told Netflix: 'He is exploiting the vulnerable. He is unstable. If you have an opinion that doesn't sit with what Lewis believes, you're exiled, you're chucked out of the group.
'It's control. It's making sure Lewis comes across as a godly figure. Lewis and The Coaching Masters is a cult.'
Others have latched on cult-like elements of his business, such as many members getting matching tattoos of The Coaching Masters' logo.
Lewis himself has tattoos almost everywhere. He admitted: 'I'm full body-covered except my hands, penis and face.'
Yet while he acknowledged the tattoos might make people wonder about whether Th Coaching Masters is a cult, Lewis was adamant his business only has good intentions.
He said: 'I have no interest in people's perception of what words mean. We are not a cult. There's no brainwashing.
Not everyone is a fan of the new version of Lewis. Former customer Louize Clarke told Netflix: 'He is exploiting the vulnerable. Lewis and The Coaching Masters is a cult'
Yet other customers, like former police officer Clare Tully (pictured), say he has changed their lives and they are grateful to him
Pictured: Lewis and his wife Dayana with business partner Liam Collins and his wife Claudia at the premiere of Netflix's The Psychopath Life Coach
The documentary showed some of Lewis's overjoyed customers that were happy with the service he provided
Both Lewis and his business partner Liam Collins have matching tattoos of the company logo
'The only cult-like thing is the tattoos. [Customers] want something to signify it.
'We have an ethos. There are people that aren't the