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, painted in 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 and did not respond. He stepped out of his office chair and picked up his black coat hanging on the office rack, put it on to protect himself from the cold weather, and adjusted his necktie properly before snatching his briefcase from his office desk.

In a final glance, Patrick walked out of his executive office at his luxurious hotel and went home, leaving Jeff Hudson speechless.

Patrick owned a vast range of secret businesses in the state, and his mind was preoccupied with many thoughts: his parents, who had been disturbing him about bringing home a wife, and his list of competitors who wanted to take him down and away from the business world.

Patrick kept multiple hidden identities, and none knew who the real Patrick Anderson was, as he kept his business strategies coded.

Patrick breathed out a cold breath as he entered the elevator on the eighth floor. It took him down to the ground floor of his ten-story multimillion-dollar hotel in the state. His bodyguards stood aside, guarding him as he stepped out and walked towards the black Prado Jeep available to take him home.

Patrick stared back at Jeff rushing to join him in his Prado Jeep. He did not wait as he entered and sat in the back seat of the Jeep, while Jeff approached and slid into the front driving seat. His bodyguards shut the back door.

Jeff ignited the Jeep engine and drove out, taking Patrick home to the Anderson residence without wanting to anger him.

Jeff arrived home, drove the car into the mansion premises, and parked. Patrick stepped down and walked straight towards the mansion's front entrance.

Patrick was angered, and his blood constantly boiled hot as he clicked his black shoes against the cemented ground and approached the magnificent four-storey building.

Patrick entered the living room, and his new maid, Loveth Logan, greeted him. "Good evening, sir. Welcome home."

Patrick paused and stared at Loveth irritably but did not respond. He walked straight towards the milk-colored couch in the living room and dropped his briefcase on it.

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

Just then, Patrick's mother, Mrs. Eleanor Anderson, a seventy-year-old woman, stepped out from her room below as she suffered from knee pain. She stared at Loveth, who was still mopping the tiled floor, irritably. She frowned and saw Patrick, wanting to enter the elevator as the door opened.

"Son," her voice trailed as she called him back.

Patrick paused and stared at his mother, already knowing that there was nothing else that she and his father expected of 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 his immediate elder sister's birth.

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

"Good evening, Mother," Patrick's greeting rolled out from his lips like a whisper, and 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 his forehead grow sweaty at his mother's question.

"Son," Mrs. Eleanor called to Patrick's attention again, and he replied, "Mom, don't worry about your death yet. 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 asked him, "Son, how about your fiancée, Willow Albert? Why not arrange to marry her at once? What's the matter, my son?"

Patrick breathed out heavily as he felt hot at his mother's question. He stared 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 from his neck, rolling it out in his palms, and shifted his gaze back to his mother.

"Mom, Willow travelled out without informing me about it. And to make matters worse, she has refused to give me a proper explanation for leaving me and our relationship." Patrick lied about that, as of course he couldn't tell his mother the truth about why he broke up with Willow—the cheap woman who was horny twenty-four hours a day, and fell for any available man who wanted to sleep with her.

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

Patrick stiffened and stared at his mother in disbelief.

Forcing a fake smile and menacing laughter, 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 to his suite on the fourth floor, but her voice stopped him again.

"Son, 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 was now through mopping the tiled floor. She bowed her head respectfully to him as she felt his cold, piercing gaze on her.

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

"Come, Loveth," Mrs. Eleanor stopped talking and stared at Loveth as she signalled her to come.

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

Loveth walked forward, and she bowed her head to him again.

"It is an honor to meet you, sir," she spoke.

Patrick stood speechless as he sank into deep thinking.

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

Her eyes were so shining black. Her nose was very pointed; her lips were naturally pink without lip gloss, and her long, natural blonde hair was packed into a ponytail.

Her skin looked so flawless, like milk and honey mixed together. Patrick took time assessing Loveth's beauty until his mother's words finally snapped him out of his assessment.

"Son, I see you like Loveth. She's also a very good cook, and 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. Good to see 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 be ready for it."

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

"Fụck!" 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 quickly ran out and left the fourth floor sitting room.

Patrick used the fourth floor alone; 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 as he dropped his briefcase too. He walked to his bar in his sitting room to take out an alcoholic wine.

Patrick was angered, and there was nothing else that irritated him more than the thought of him ending up married to a loose woman.

Patrick took out an alcoholic wine bottle and opened it in his hand. He chugged down the wine content directly from the bottle's mouth, finishing it in one go.

Patrick staggered, feeling the wine's effect on him, and he sat back on the black stool closer to the bar top and popped open another wine bottle.

"I hate you, Willow!" Patrick cursed. Just then, he heard his sitting room door slide open.