1: The Angry Boss

Patrick stood up from his executive office seat as his work was done for the day.

At 8 pm sharp, his personal assistant, Jeff Hudson, knocked and stepped into his ash-grey executive office to see him.

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

Patrick, dressed in a red shirt and plain black trousers, stared at Jeff like a piece of trash and didn't respond as he stood up from his office seat. He picked up his black coat hanging on the back of his chair, and wore it to protect himself from the cold weather and prevent it from freezing his dark skin.

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

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

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

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

Patrick then breathed out a cold breath as he entered the elevator on the 8th floor, which took him down to the last floor of his 10-story, multimillion-dollar hotel in the state.

His bodyguards stood aside, guarding him as he stepped out and walked towards the black prado jeep made available to take him home.

Patrick stared back at Jeff rushing to join him in his Prado Jeep but didn't wait. He entered and sat in the back seat of his Prado Jeep, while Jeff approached and slid into the front driving seat as his bodyguards shut the back door closed.

Jeff ignited the Jeep's engine and drove off, taking Patrick home to the Andersons' residence, not wanting to anger him.

Jeff arrived and drove into the mansion premises and parked.

Patrick then stepped down from his car and walked straight towards their mansion's frontage.

Patrick was angered, and his blood constantly boiled as he clicked his black shoes on the cemented ground and approached their mighty 4-story building mansion.

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

Patrick paused and stared at Loveth irritably, not responding.

He walked straight towards the milk-colored couch in the living room, threw his briefcase onto it, took off his black coat, and hung it over his shoulder.

Patrick then picked up his black briefcase and walked straight towards the elevator, wanting to go up to his mega rooms.

Just then, Patrick's mother, Mrs. Eleanor Anderson, a 70-year-old woman who suffered from kneecap pain, stepped out from her room below and stared at Loveth, who was still mopping the tiled floor, irritably.

She frowned when she saw Patrick wanting to enter the elevator, just as the door dinged open.

"Son..." Her voice trailed as she called him back.

Patrick paused and stared at his mother angrily, already knowing there was nothing else that she and his elderly father expected of him other than giving them an heir.

Patrick had four older sisters, and they were all married. His aged mother had birthed him last, 10 years after his immediate elder sister's birth.

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

"Good evening, Mother," Patrick's greeting rolled out from his lips like a whisper.

His mother smiled at him and replied, "Welcome, son. How was your day today 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. Or don't you want us to see the next heir of Anderson Corporation?"

Patrick swallowed, feeling his forehead sweat at his mother's question.

"Son..." Mrs. Eleanor called Patrick's attention again, and he replied, "Mom, don't worry about your death yet, okay? I will think about a bride soon, probably this week or next."

"Okay, son." Mrs. Eleanor smiled at Patrick, and he stood up to leave, but she asked him,

"Son, how about your girlfriend, Willow Albert? Why not make an arrangement to marry her at once, or what's the matter, son?"

Patrick breathed out, feeling hot at her question again. He looked away and made eye contact with their new maid, Loveth.

She smiled at him and blushed as she continued mopping the tiled floor happily.

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

Patrick loosened his necktie from his neck, rolled it in his palms, and shifted his gaze back to his mother.

"Mom, Willow traveled out without informing me. And as if that's not enough, she has refused to give me a proper explanation for leaving me and our relationship."

Patrick forged that, as of course, he couldn't tell his mother the truth related to why he broke up with Willow—the cheap slut who was horny 24/7 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 you both are fine and still together."

Patrick stiffened and stared back at his mother unbelievably.

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

"Okay, son." Mrs. Eleanor smiled at Patrick, and he turned to leave and return to his executive rooms 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 kind women contributing to building the economy."

Patrick paused and stared back at Loveth, who had finished mopping the tiled floor.

She bowed her head respectfully as she felt his cold, piercing gaze on her.

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

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

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

Loveth walked forward into Patrick's view and bowed her head low again.

"It is an honor to meet you, sir," she spoke, but Patrick stood speechless as he sank into deep thought.

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

Her eyes, so shining black like a cat's. Her nose, very sharp and pointed. Her lips, naturally pink without lip gloss. And her long, natural blonde hair 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.

"Patrick, 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, and 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 some important online business meeting to catch up with by 10 pm, and I need to be ready for it."

Without his mother's response, Patrick turned and immediately walked away from them, returning to the elevator, entering it, and immediately going up to the fourth floor.

"FỤCK!" Patrick cursed out 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, and without warning, the two maids hastily ran out and left the fourth-floor sitting room, as Patrick used the fourth floor all 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 and walked up to his bar in his sitting room to take out an alcoholic wine.

Patrick was angered, and nothing irritated him more than the thought of ending up marrying a loose woman.

Patrick took out the alcoholic wine bottle, opened it in his hand, and 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. He sat back on the black stool closer to the bar top and popped open another wine bottle.

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