Patrick stood up from his executive office seat, having finished the day's work. At 8 PM sharp, his personal assistant, Jeff Hudson, knocked and stepped into his office, which was painted in an ash-grey color.
"Good evening, boss. Are you leaving for home now?" Jeff asked.
Patrick, dressed in a red dress shirt and black trousers, glared at Jeff as if he were a piece of trash. He didn’t respond as he rose from his chair, picked up his black coat hanging nearby, and put it on to shield himself from the cold. He adjusted his necktie and grabbed his briefcase from his desk.
With one last glance, Patrick walked out of his luxurious hotel office, leaving Jeff speechless behind him. Patrick owned a vast array of secret businesses in the state, and his mind was preoccupied with many thoughts, ranging from concerns about his parents to the pressure of finding a wife, as well as the list of competitors who wanted to take him down in the business world.
Keeping multiple identities hidden, no one truly knew who the real Patrick Anderson was, as he kept his business strategies coded. He exhaled a cold breath as he entered the elevator on the 8th floor, which took him down to the lobby of his 10-story multimillion-dollar hotel. His bodyguards stood by, guarding him as he stepped out and walked toward the Prado Jeep waiting to take him home.
Patrick glanced back to see Jeff rushing to join him in the vehicle. He didn’t wait as he climbed into the back seat, while Jeff slid into the front driving seat. The bodyguards shut the back door behind them. Jeff started the engine and drove him home to the Anderson residence, careful not to provoke him.
Upon arrival, Jeff drove into the mansion's premises and parked. Patrick stepped out and walked straight toward the grand entrance of their four-story mansion. Anger simmered within him as he clicked his black shoes against the cemented ground.
Inside, Patrick entered the living room, where the new maid, Loveth Logan, greeted him. "Good evening, sir. Welcome home."
Patrick paused, staring at Loveth irritably, and did not respond. He walked straight to the milk-colored couch in the living room, threw his briefcase onto it, and took off his black coat, draping it over his shoulder. He picked up his briefcase again and headed for the elevator, wanting to go up to his private quarters.
Just then, his mother, Mrs. Eleanor Anderson, a 70-year-old woman suffering from knee pain, stepped out from her room. She saw Loveth mopping the tiled floor and frowned. Spotting Patrick about to enter the elevator, she called out, "Son..."
Her voice trailed off as she beckoned him back. Patrick paused, glancing at his mother with irritation, already knowing that all she and his promiscuous father expected from him was to provide them with a grandchild.
Patrick had four older sisters, all married, and he was the last child born ten years after his immediate elder sister. Clutching his briefcase tighter, he frowned and approached his mother, who smiled as he drew near and embraced her warmly.
"Good evening, mother," Patrick said quietly, and she smiled back, asking, "How was your day at the office?"
"Fine, mother." Patrick sat with her on the executive couch. She continued, "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 the Anderson Corporation?"
Patrick swallowed hard, his forehead growing sweaty at her question.
"Son..." Mrs. Eleanor called again, and he replied, "Mom, don’t worry about that just yet. I’ll think about it soon, probably this week or next."
"Okay, son." She smiled at him, and he stood up to leave, but she added, "What about your girlfriend, Willow Albert? Why not make arrangements to marry her at once? What's the matter, son?"
Patrick exhaled, feeling the heat of her question. He glanced at Loveth, who smiled and blushed while mopping the floor. Patrick's unique dark gray eyes scanned her waist in the pink maid uniform. She looked beautiful and cute, leaving him to wonder who had hired her.
He loosened his necktie and rolled it in his hands, shifting his gaze back to his mother. "Mom, Willow traveled without informing me. And on top of that, she hasn’t given me a proper explanation for leaving me and our relationship." He fabricated this story, knowing he couldn't tell his mother the truth about Willow, a woman who had been unfaithful.
"But son, I spoke to Willow yesterday, and she told me you both were fine and still together."
Patrick stiffened, staring at his mother in disbelief. Forcing a fake smile and a menacing laugh, he replied, "I’m tired, Mom. I’ll get back to you, and probably next week I’ll look for a bride, since that’s what you want."
"Okay, son." Mrs. Eleanor smiled, and Patrick turned to leave for 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 charitable women contributing to the economy."
Patrick paused, looking back at Loveth, who had finished mopping and now bowed her head respectfully under his cold gaze.
"How do you see her, son?" Mrs. Eleanor continued. "Your eldest sister, Isabel Owen, recommended her services to us. She's like a daughter to me and has been a great help, especially since I’m getting older and can’t do much work."
"Come, Loveth," Mrs. Eleanor said, signaling for her to approach. "Loveth, meet my son, Master Patrick Anderson, sole heir to the Anderson Corporation."
Loveth walked forward and bowed her head again. "It’s an honor to meet you, sir." Patrick stood speechless, lost in deep thought. Was this some sort of temptation or setup by his mother?
Her eyes were shining black, her nose sharp, her lips naturally pink without gloss, and her long blonde hair was tied back in a ponytail. Her skin looked flawless, like a mixture of milk and honey. Patrick took his time assessing her beauty until his mother's words snapped him back to reality.
"Son, I see you like her. She's also a very good cook. I can’t help but feel younger and love her more."
"Hmm..." Patrick narrowed his eyes at her and replied, "Fine, mother. It’s good to see she’s taking care of you. I have to go upstairs now, as I have an important online business meeting to catch up on by 10 PM, and I need to prepare."
Without waiting for a response from his mother, Patrick turned and walked away. He entered the elevator and went up to the fourth floor.
"F*CK!" he cursed as he stepped out into his sitting room. The two maids there quickly greeted him, "Good evening, boss. Welcome home."
"Shut up and get out!" Patrick thundered. Without warning, the two maids rushed out, leaving him alone on the fourth floor. Patrick threw his black coat and necktie onto the nearest couch, along with his briefcase, and walked over to the bar in his sitting room to grab an alcoholic beverage.
Nothing irritated him more than the thought of ending up married to someone he deemed unworthy. He took out a bottle of wine, opened it, and chugged it directly from the bottle, finishing it in one go. Staggering slightly from the effects of the alcohol, he sat back on a black stool closer to the bar top and popped open another bottle.
"I hate you, Willow!" Patrick cursed, just as he heard the door to his sitting room slide open.
