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Patrick Anderson, a 27-year-old dark-skinned man, sat in his office chair, watching naked photos and videos of his fiancée, Willow Albert, in bed with his rival, Tony Miles.

Patrick's gaze darkened at how relentlessly Tony was thrusting into Willow's wet cunt.

Tony's hands gripped Willow's waist as she knelt on the bed, her hips raised to receive his thrusts.

Patrick's fingers tightened on his phone as he scrolled through the videos displayed on his screen.

A few minutes earlier, Tony Miles had forwarded the video to him with a caption: Guess who travelled to New York City with me?

It turned out the woman was Patrick's own fiancée, Willow Albert.

A month ago, Patrick had gotten engaged to Willow in the lobby of his grand hotel, The Anderson Hotel.

Willow had frowned in the trending videos and photos circulating online. It appeared she was not happy about getting engaged to Patrick.

Patrick had not expected Willow to cheat on him with his own rival, Tony.

"Why did she do this? Is this why Willow did not inform me of her reason for leaving the country?" Patrick muttered, turning off his phone.

He rose from his executive office chair, leaned against his desk, and turned off his laptop.

Patrick stepped away from his chair and picked up his black coat, which was hanging on the armrest, to wear it.

Just then, a sharp knock echoed in his office.

"Come in," Patrick responded calmly, despite the rage boiling within him as he plotted how to break up with Willow.

The office door opened, and a tall man wearing a brown shirt and black trousers stepped in. He was Jeff Hudson, Patrick's personal assistant.

The clock showed 8 p.m. sharp, and Patrick looked directly at Jeff's face, urging him to speak.

Jeff swallowed and quickly inquired, "Boss, are you leaving for home now? Do you need me to get anything?"

Patrick's lips remained tightly shut. He held his coat and wore it over his red dress shirt and plain black trousers. His fingers moved to button his coat.

Jeff stood wondering what had angered his boss at Patrick's silence.

Patrick ignored Jeff like a piece of trash and finished buckling his coat to prevent the cold wind from biting his cool dark skin and freezing him to death.

The atmosphere in Patrick's office was freezing cold, combined with his silent treatment as he didn't utter a word to Jeff.

Just as Patrick finished buckling his coat, he ensured his computer was completely turned off. Then he grabbed his black briefcase that lay on his desk and strode past Jeff, exiting his office.

Patrick stepped into the elevator on the eighth floor of his luxury hotel and rode down to the ground floor, leaving Jeff Hudson speechless.

Patrick Anderson owned a vast array of secret businesses he controlled in the state. His mind was preoccupied with many thoughts.

One: Willow's betrayal.

Two: His parents' request that he bring home a wife.

Three: Tony Miles and other rivals trying to take him down and drive him out of the business world.

Patrick had kept a series of multiple identities hidden, and none knew who the real Patrick Anderson was, because he kept his business strategies coded.

Breathing out heavily, Patrick stepped out of the elevator as soon as it stopped in the exquisite hotel lobby.

The staff greeted him, "Goodbye, boss," as he departed, flanked by bodyguards in black ensembles escorting him.

Patrick stepped out of the hotel building; the cold night wind greeted him and caressed his face despite his gloomy mood.

He strode to his black Prado Jeep, parked aside and made available to take him home.

Patrick entered his Jeep as he remotely unlocked it. Just then, he stared out at Jeff, who was rushing to join him in the vehicle.

Patrick didn't wait for Jeff to enter, automatically shutting the door.

Thankfully, Jeff had a spare key, unlocked the driver's seat door, and hopped into it, not wanting to anger his boss.

The vehicle felt cold as the atmosphere thickened between them. Jeff quickly fastened his seat belt and ignited the vehicle, not wanting to anger his boss.

Jeff drove out of the luxury Anderson Hotel and headed to the villa.

Patrick remained silent, observing the road as Jeff drove past different scenery and landscapes, cutting through various houses and firms that lined the city road.

Jeff arrived at the grand estate that belonged to Patrick. He drove the car slowly and steadily as he pulled to a halt. The bodyguards stationed at the gate pulled it open, and Jeff drove into the mansion grounds and parked.

Patrick unlocked his side door and got out of the vehicle, making his way to the magnificent four-story building. His polished black shoes clicked sharply against the interlocking grounds as he approached the mansion frontage.

A fountain sat in the middle of the compound, and a lovely woman's statue poured out water.

Patrick reached the veranda, climbed onto the polished marble tiled floor, and rang the doorbell.

He waited for someone to open the door from within.

A few minutes later, the door swung open, and Patrick met the gaze of a stunning young woman. He saw her eyes widen as they met his piercing grey eyes.

The maid's cheeks flushed red; she wore a pink dress, the customary uniform for the maids working in the mansion.

"What are you waiting for? Step aside," Patrick barked, and the maid quickly moved to a corner for him to step in.

"Good evening, Boss. Welcome home," she quickly greeted him.

Patrick's brows furrowed at the maid, and he didn't respond to her greeting. He frowned after hearing her soft voice.

Patrick strode toward one of the seven milk-coloured couches scattered around the living room. He placed his briefcase on it, took off his black coat, and draped it over his shoulder. He then picked up his briefcase and walked straight toward the elevator to return to his room on the fourth floor.

Meanwhile, a door opened and Mrs. Eleanor stepped out. She was a 70-year-old woman wearing a brown dress and black shoes. As she walked into the living room, suffering from kneecap pain, she stared at Loveth, who was still mopping the tiled floor, and frowned irritably.

The elevator sound captured her attention, and she turned to see her son, Patrick, about to enter the elevator as the door dinged open.

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

Patrick paused and stared back at his mother, frowning. He already knew there was nothing else 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 birthed him last, ten years after his immediate elder sister's birth.

Patrick clutched his briefcase, frowning, and walked back to meet his mother. She smiled, approaching him too.

Patrick hugged his mother warmly and greeted, "Good evening, Mother," his greeting rolling out of his lips like a whisper.

Mrs. Eleanor smiled, walking with Patrick to sit on a couch, and replied, "Welcome, son. How was your day today at the office?"

"Fine, Mother," Patrick responded, sitting on the couch with his mother. 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 for his attention again.

Patrick 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 responded with a smile.

Patrick then stood up to leave the living room, but she asked him, "Son, how about your fiancée, Willow Albert? Why not make an arrangement to go marry her at once, or what's the matter, son?"

Patrick breathed out heavily. He felt hot at her question again. He stared away and met eye contact with their new maid, Loveth. She blushed as she continued mopping the tiled floor happily.

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

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

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

Patrick lied, because he couldn't tell his mother the truth about why he broke up with Willow—the cheap slut who was 24/7 horny and fell for any available rod that wanted to thrust into her secret cave.

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

"What?..." Patrick stiffened and stared at his mother's face in disbelief. Forcing a fake smile and hearty laughter, he 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, my son," Mrs. Eleanor grinned, while Patrick turned and made his way to the elevator. Just then, Mrs. Eleanor called 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 was now through mopping the tiled floor.

She lowered her head respectfully, feeling his cold piercing gaze on her.

"How do you see Loveth? 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'm already old and cannot work much. Come, Loveth." Mrs. Eleanor stopped talking to Patrick and looked at Loveth as she signaled her to come closer. "Loveth, meet my son, Master Patrick Anderson, the sole heir to Anderson Corporation."

Loveth walked forward into Patrick's view, dropped her gaze from his handsome face, and bowed her head low to him again.

"It is an honor to meet you, sir," she spoke, her voice like music to Patrick's ear.

Patrick's gaze darkened as he stood speechless in the living room. His mind sank into deep thinking. 'Is this some sort of temptation or setup by my mother? Her eyes are so shining black like a pussycat. Her nose is pointed, and her lips look naturally pink without lip gloss. Her long blonde hair is pulled into a ponytail, and her fair skin looks so flawless like a mixture of milk and honey.'

Patrick snapped out of his thoughts, realizing he had taken time assessing Loveth's beauty, until his mother's words interrupted 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 the more."

"Hmm..." Patrick's gaze narrowed at Loveth. He glanced at his mother and replied, "Good to see she's taking good care of you, Mom. I have to go upstairs now, as I have an important online business meeting to catch up with by 10 p.m., and I need to be ready for it."

Without waiting for his mother's response, Patrick turned and strode into the elevator. The door shut, and he rode to his room on the fourth floor.

As the elevator stopped, Patrick stepped out and cursed, "Damn it." He felt furious at the reminder of Willow's betrayal.

Stepping into his vast furnished sitting room on the fourth floor, Patrick spotted two slender brown-skinned maids who quickly greeted him, "Good evening, boss. Welcome home."

"Shut up, and get out!" Patrick thundered, and they swiftly darted out into the elevator to give him space.

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 strode to the purple couch in his living room. He had seven couches. He placed his black coat, necktie, and briefcase on one of the couches and strode to his exclusive wine bar in his exquisite sitting room to take out an alcoholic wine.

Patrick felt rage seething in his veins, as nothing irritated him more than the thought of ending up marrying a loose woman who was like a slut and slept around the neighborhood.

Patrick grasped the red alcoholic wine bottle, uncorked it, and chugged it down directly from the bottle.

Finishing it in one go, Patrick staggered, feeling the wine's effect on him. He perched on the black stool closer to the bar table and popped open another red wine bottle.

"I will never forgive you, Willow!" Patrick cursed. Just then, the elevator dinged open, and he glanced back, seeing his sitting room door slide open.