1: The drunken night

Patrick stood up from his executive office seat as he was through for the day's work. At 8 pm sharp, his personal assistant, Jeff Hudson, knocked and stepped into his executive office painted in ash-grey. "Good evening boss, are you leaving for home now?" asked Jeff.

Patrick, dressed in a red packet shirt and black plain trousers, stared at Jeff like a piece of trash and didn't respond. He stepped out from his office seat, picked up his black coat hanging on his office seat, and wore it to prevent the cold weather from hitting his cool dark skin and freezing him to death. He adjusted his necktie properly and snatched his briefcase away from his office desk.

In a single final glance, Patrick walked out from his executive office of his Luxurious hotel, going home, and leaving Jeff Hudson speechless. Patrick owned a vast range of secret businesses he conducted in the state. His mind was preoccupied with a lot of thoughts, ranging from his parents who had been disturbing him to 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 several hidden identities, and no one knew who the real Patrick Anderson was, as he kept his business strategies coded. Patrick breathed out a cold breath as he entered into the elevator on the 8th floor, which immediately 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 Prado jeep available to take him home.

Patrick stared back at Jeff rushing to join him in his Prado Jeep and didn't wait. He entered and sat in the back seat, while Jeff approached and slid into the driver's seat. His bodyguards shut the back door closed. Jeff ignited the Jeep engine and drove him home to the Andersons' residence without wanting to anger him.

Jeff arrived and drove into the mansion premises and parked, while Patrick stepped down and walked straight towards their mansion frontage. Patrick was angry, and his blood constantly boiled as he clicked his black shoes on the cemented ground and approached their mighty 4-story building mansion.

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. He didn't respond and walked straight towards the milk-colored couch in the living room. He threw his briefcase on the couch, took off his black coat, and hung it on his shoulder. Patrick picked up his briefcase and walked straight towards the elevator, wanting to go up to his mega rooms.

Patrick's mother, Mrs. Eleanor Anderson, a 70-year-old woman, stepped out from her room below as she suffered from kneecap pain. She stared at Loveth still mopping the tiled floor irritably. She frowned and saw Patrick, who was about to enter the elevator when the door dinged open. "Son..." Her voice trailed as she called him back. Patrick paused and stared at his mother angrily. He knew there was nothing else that she and his promiscuous father expected of him other than giving them an heir.

Patrick had four older sisters, and they were all married. His aged mother birthed him last after 10 years of his immediate elder sister's birth. Patrick clutched his briefcase tighter as he frowned and walked back to meet his mother. She smiled 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 back at him and asked, "Welcome son. How was your day today in the office?"

"Fine, mother," Patrick replied. He 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 Cooperation?"

Patrick swallowed as he felt his forehead sweaty at his mother's question. "Son," Mrs. Eleanor called to Patrick's attention again. He replied, "Mom, you don't have to 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. He stood up to leave, but she asked him, "Son, how about your girlfriend Willow Albert? Why not make arrangements to marry her at once, or what's the matter, son?"

Patrick breathed out as he felt hot at her question again. He stared away and made eye contact with their new maid, Loveth, who smiled at him and blushed. She continued mopping the tiled floor happily. Patrick's unique dark grey eyes scanned her waist in her pink maid uniform. She looked so beautiful and cute, making him wonder who had purposely employed her to work in their mansion.

Patrick loosened his necktie and shifted his gaze back to his mother. "Mom, Willow traveled without informing me about it. And on top of that, 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 woman who was always horny and fell for any available man.

"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 menacing laughter, 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 as he turned to leave and return back up 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 charitable women contributing to building the economy."

Patrick paused and stared back at Loveth, who was now mopping the tiled floor. She bowed her head in a respectful manner 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 signaled for Loveth to come.

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

Loveth walked forward into Patrick's view and she bowed her head in respect to him again and spoke, "It is an honor to meet you, sir."

Patrick stood speechless as he sank into deep thought.

Was this some sort of temptation or set-up by his mother?

Her eyes were so shining black like a pussycat. Her nose was very sharp and pointed, her lips 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, and Patrick took time assessing her beauty until his mother's words finally snapped him out of his assessment.

"Son, I see you like her. 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, walking back to the elevator. He entered and immediately went up to the fourth floor.

"F*CK!" 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, and without warning, the two maids immediately ran out and left the fourth floor sitting room.

Patrick used the fourth floor all alone to himself, and 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 to 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.

Furthermore, Patrick was angered, and there was nothing else that irritated him the most than the thought of him ending up marrying a loose woman.

He took out the 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.

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

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