The Unfilial Boss Woman

Patrick stood up from his executive office chair, as he was through with the day’s work.

At 8 p.m. sharp, his personal assistant, Jeff Hudson, knocked and stepped into his executive office, which was painted ash grey, to see him.

“Good evening, boss. Are you leaving for home now?” Jeff asked.

Patrick, dressed in a red shirt and black trousers, stared at Jeff like a piece of trash. He did not respond. Instead, he stepped away from his office chair, picked up his black coat from where it hung, and put it on to prevent the cold weather from hitting his cool, dark skin and freezing him to death.

Patrick adjusted his necktie properly and snatched his briefcase from his office desk.

With one final glance, Patrick walked out of his executive office in his luxurious hotel, heading home and leaving Jeff Hudson speechless.

Patrick owned a vast range of secret businesses throughout the state, and his mind was preoccupied with many thoughts.

He thought about his parents, who had been disturbing him about bringing home a wife, as well as the list of competitors who wanted to take him down and drive him out of the business world.

Patrick had kept a series of multiple identities hidden, and no one knew who the real Patrick Anderson was. He kept his business strategies coded.

Similarly, Patrick breathed out a cold breath as he entered the elevator on the eighth floor. It immediately took him down to the ground floor of his ten-storey, multimillion-dollar hotel.

His bodyguards stood aside, guarding him, as he stepped out and walked towards the black Jeep that had been made available to take him home.

Patrick glanced back at Jeff, who was rushing to join him in his Prado Jeep, but he did not wait. He entered and sat in the back seat while Jeff approached and slid into the front driver’s seat. His bodyguards shut the back door.

Jeff ignited the Jeep’s engine and drove out, taking Patrick home to the Andersons’ residence and trying not to anger him.

Jeff arrived at the mansion, drove into the premises, and parked.

Patrick stepped out of the Jeep and walked straight towards the front of the mansion.

Patrick was angry, and his blood boiled as he clicked his black shoes against the cemented ground and approached their mighty four-storey mansion.

Patrick entered the living room, and his new maid, Loveth Logan, greeted him.

“Good evening, sir. Welcome home.”

Patrick paused and stared irritably at Loveth. He did not respond. Instead, he walked straight towards the milk-coloured couch in the living room and threw his briefcase onto it.

Patrick took off his black coat and hung it over his shoulder. Then, he picked up his briefcase and walked straight towards the elevator, wanting to go up to his rooms.

Mrs Eleanor Anderson, a seventy-year-old woman, stepped out of her room downstairs. She suffered from kneecap pain and stared irritably at Loveth, who was still mopping the tiled floor.

She frowned when she saw Patrick about to enter the elevator. The doors dinged open.

“Son…” Her voice trailed as she called him back.

Patrick paused and stared angrily at his mother. He already knew there was nothing else she and his promiscuous father expected from him other than giving them an heir.

Patrick had four older sisters, and they were all married. His aged mother had given birth to him last, ten years after the birth of his immediate elder sister.

Patrick clutched his briefcase tighter as he frowned and walked back to meet his mother. She smiled at him as he approached and gave him a warm hug.

“Good evening, Mother,” Patrick greeted. His words rolled from his lips like a whisper.

His mother smiled and replied, “Welcome, son. How was your day at the office?”

“Fine, Mother.”

Patrick sat with his mother on the executive couch, and she asked him, “Son, when will you finally marry? You know your father and I aren’t getting any younger. Don’t you want us to see the next heir of Anderson Corporation?”

Patrick swallowed as he felt sweat gather on his forehead at his mother’s question.

“Son…” Mrs Eleanor called for Patrick’s attention again.

He replied, “Mom, don’t worry about your death yet, okay? I will think about a bride soon, probably this week or next.”

“Okay, my son.” Mrs Eleanor smiled at Patrick.

He stood up to leave, but she stopped him.

“Son, what about your girlfriend, Willow Albert? Why not arrange to marry her at once? Or what’s the matter?”

Patrick breathed out as he grew increasingly uncomfortable at her question. He looked away and met eyes with their new maid, Loveth. She smiled at him and blushed as she continued mopping the tiled floor happily.

Patrick’s dark-grey eyes scanned Loveth's waist in her pink uniform. She looked so beautiful, making him wonder who had purposely employed her to work in their mansion.

Patrick loosened his necktie and rolled it in his palms before shifting his gaze back to his mother.

“Mom, Willow travelled out without informing me. And, as if that wasn’t enough, she refused to give me a proper explanation for leaving me and our relationship.”

Patrick forged the story. Of course, he couldn’t tell his mother the truth about why he had broken up with Willow—the cheap slut who was horny twenty-four hours a day and fell for any available rod that wanted to thrust into her secret cave.

“But, son, I spoke to Willow yesterday, and she told me that you both are fine and still together.”

Patrick stiffened and stared back at his mother in disbelief.

Forcing a fake smile and menacing laugh, Patrick replied, “I’m tired, Mom. I will get back to you. Probably next week, I will look for a bride, since that’s what you want.”

“Okay, my son.” Mrs Eleanor smiled at Patrick.

He turned to leave and return upstairs to his executive room on the fourth floor, but her voice stopped him again.

“Patrick, have you met Loveth Logan? She’s the new maid from Westwood, and her mother is one of the charitable women contributing to building the economy.”

Patrick paused and stared back at Loveth, who had just finished mopping the tiled floor. She bowed her head respectfully as she felt his cold, piercing gaze on her.

“How do you see her? Your eldest sister, Isabel Owen, recommended Loveth's services to us. She’s like a daughter to me and helps me a lot, as I’m already old and cannot work much.”

“Come, Loveth.” Mrs Eleanor stopped talking and signalled for her to come closer.

“Loveth, meet my son, Master Patrick Anderson, sole heir to Anderson Corporation.”

Loveth walked forward into Patrick’s view and bowed her head to him again.

“It is an honour to meet you, sir,” she said.

Patrick stood speechless as he sank into deep thought.

'Is this some sort of temptation or a setup by my mother?'

Her eyes were as shiny and black as a cat’s. Her nose was sharply pointed, and her lips were naturally pink without lip gloss. Her long, natural blonde hair was tied into a ponytail.

Her skin looked flawless, like milk and honey mixed together.

Patrick took his time assessing Loveth's beauty until his mother’s words finally snapped him out of his thoughts.

“Patrick, I see you like Loveth. She’s also a very good cook. I cannot help but feel younger and love her more.”

“Hmm…” Patrick’s eyes finally narrowed at Loveth. He replied to his mother, “Fine, Mother. It’s good to see that she’s taking good care of you. I have to go upstairs now, as I have an important online business meeting to catch up with at 10 p.m., and I need to prepare for it.”

Without waiting for his mother’s response, Patrick turned and walked away from them. He returned to the elevator, entered, and went up to the fourth floor.

“Fuck!” Patrick cursed as he stepped out of the elevator and into his sitting room on the fourth floor.

The two maids there quickly greeted him.

“Good evening, boss. Welcome home.”

“Shut up and get out!” Patrick thundered.

Without warning, the two maids immediately ran out and left the fourth-floor sitting room.

Patrick used the fourth floor all alone, while the third and second floors were used by his elder sisters long before they got married or whenever they were around.

Patrick threw his black coat and necktie onto the nearest couch, dropped his briefcase beside them, and walked to the bar in his sitting room to take out a bottle of alcoholic wine.

Furthermore, Patrick was angry. Nothing irritated him more than the thought of ending up married to a loose woman.

Patrick took out the bottle of alcoholic wine and opened it. Then he chugged down its contents directly from the bottle, finishing it in one go.

Patrick staggered as he felt the wine take effect. He sat on the black stool beside the bar and popped open another wine bottle.

“I hate you, Willow!” Patrick cursed.

Just then, he heard his sitting-room door slide open.