The Unfilial Boss Woman

1: Druken Night

Patrick Anderson stood up from his executive office seat as he was done with the day's work. At 8 p.m. sharp, his 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?"

Patrick, dressed in a red-coloured shirt, stared at Jeff like a piece of trash, and he walked out from his seat, picking up his black coat as he was wearing a black suit trouser.

Patrick wore his black coat on top of his red shirt to prevent the cold weather from hitting his cool, dark skin and freezing him to death. He didn't utter any word to Jeff Hudson as he snatched his briefcase away from his desk and adjusted his necktie properly.

In a single final glance, Patrick stepped out of office from his luxurious hotel, going home, and leaving Jeff Hudson speechless.

Patrick owned a vast range of secret businesses he operates in the state, and his mind was preoccupied with a lot of thoughts, ranging from his parents that have been disturbing him to bring a wife home down to the list of competitors he has wanting to take him down and away from the business world.

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

Patrick breathed out a cold breath, feeling the snowy weather, and he entered the elevator on the 8th floor that took him straight to the last floor of his 10-story multimillion-dollar hotel in the state.

His bodyguards stood aside, guarding him, and he walked out and towards the Prado Jeep made available to take him home.

Patrick stared back at Jeff, rushing to join him in his Prado Jeep, and he didn't wait as he entered and sat into his Jeep. His guards shut the back door closed while Jeff immediately opened the front seat door and slid into the front driving seat and started the Jeep engine, not wanting to anger him.

Jeff drove back home to the Anderson residence, and he slowed down and drove into the garage and parked.

Patrick stepped down from the vehicle and walked straight to their mansion.

He was angered, and his blood constantly boiled as he clicked his black shoes on the cemented ground and walked into the four-story building mansion.

"Good evening, sir. Welcome!" His new maid, Loveth Logan, greeted him as he entered the living room of their mighty 4-story building.

Patrick paused and stared at Loveth like a piece of trash. He didn't respond to her greeting as he walked in straight and threw his briefcase to the nearest couch, taking off his black coat and hanging it on his shoulder. He walked straight to the elevator going up to his mega rooms.

His mother, Mrs. Eleanor Anderson, a 70-year-old woman, stepped out from a room downstairs as she suffered from knee pains. She stared at Loveth, still mopping the tiled floor irritably.

She frowned and saw her son wanting to enter the elevator; the doors dinged open.

"Son!" Her voice trailed as she called him back. Patrick paused and stared back at his mother angrily, knowing 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 and far older than him, as his aged mother birthed him last, after 10 years of his immediate elder sister's birth.

"Good evening, mother," his greeting rolled out from his lips like a whisper as he clutched tighter to his black coat and briefcase. He walked back to meet his mother, feeling the heat from the warmer on his cool dark skin.

Patrick approached his mother, who was 70 years of age, and she smiled faintly at him as he gave her a warm hug, and escorted her back to sit on one of the couches.

"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?" His mother asked him.

Patrick swallowed and stared downward, feeling his forehead sweaty. Even as there was snow, with the warmer cooling the grand hall, he felt sick at that instant with his mother's question.

"Son," his aged mother, Eleanor Anderson, called to his attention again, and he sighed.

"Mother, you don't worry about your death yet; I will think about a bride soon, okay?"

"Okay," she nodded, and he stood up and hung his black coat on his shoulder.

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

Patrick stepped away in silence, and he turned and met eyes with their new maid, Loveth Logan. She blushed and stared downwards as she continued with her mopping the tiled floor.

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

He loosened his necktie and removed it as he rolled it in his palms and shifted his gaze back to his mother.

"Mom, Willow travelled out without informing me about it. And like that's not enough, she has refused to give me a proper explanation of leaving me and our relationship." Patrick lied to his mother; of course, he couldn't tell her the truth related to why he broke up with Willow. The cheap slut that was 24/7 horny and fell for any available rod that wants to thrust into her secret cave.

"Son, but I spoke to Willow yesterday, and she said you both are fine and still together." Patrick stiffened and stared back at his mother unbelievably.

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

"Okay, son." She smiled, and he turned to leave and return back to his executive rooms on the top floor, but her voice stopped him again.

"Son, have you met Loveth Logan? She's a 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. She bowed her head lower as she felt his burning, cold gaze on her.

"Son, how do you see her? 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 and stared at Loveth, and she signalled her to come.

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

Loveth walked forward to Patrick's view, and she bowed her head lower respectfully to him. "It's an honour to meet you, sir," she spoke, but Patrick remained quiet.

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

Her eyes were so shining black like p***y, her nose very sharp-pointed, her lips naturally pink without lip gloss, and her long natural blonde hair packed in a ponytail.

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

"I see you like her, son. 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 nodded. "Fine, mother. Good to see she's taking care of you. I have to go upstairs now. I have some important online business meetings to catch up with by 10 pm, and I need to be ready for it."

Without his mother's response, Patrick turned and walked away from them. He walked back to the elevator that took him up.

"f**k!" Patrick cursed out as he stepped into his executive sitting room upstairs. The two maids there quickly greeted him, "Welcome, boss!"

"Shut up, and get out!" Patrick thundered at them, and without warning, the two maids immediately ran out from the fourth-floor sitting room, as Patrick used the fourth floor all to himself. The third and second floors were used by his elder sisters before they got married.

Patrick threw his black coat and necktie to the nearest couch, and he walked to his bar to take out an alcoholic wine.

There was nothing else that irks him more than the thought of ending up marrying a loose, bitchy woman.

Patrick opened the wine bottle and gulped the wine directly from the bottle. Finishing it in one go, he staggered, feeling the wine's effect on him, and he sat on the stool closer to the bar and popped open another bottle.

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