The Unfilial Boss Woman

Chapter 1. Drunken Night

Patrick stood up from his executive office chair, having finished his day's work. At 8 p.m. sharp, his personal assistant, Jeff Hudson, knocked and stepped into his office, which was painted an ash-grey color.

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

Patrick, dressed in a red shirt and black trousers, shot Jeff a disdainful look but didn’t respond. He stepped out from his chair, picked up his black coat hanging on the back, and put it on to protect against the cold weather that threatened his smooth dark skin. He adjusted his necktie and grabbed his briefcase from his desk.

After a final glance around his office at the luxurious hotel, Patrick walked out, leaving Jeff Hudson speechless.

Patrick owned a vast array of secret businesses throughout the state, and his mind was occupied with various thoughts, ranging from the pressure from his parents to bring home a wife to the list of competitors trying to take him down in the business world.

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

Exhaling a cold breath, Patrick entered the elevator on the 8th floor, which took him down to the ground floor of his ten-story multimillion-dollar hotel. His bodyguards stood aside, guarding him as he stepped out and walked towards the Prado Jeep waiting to take him home.

As Patrick glanced back, he saw Jeff rushing to join him in his Prado Jeep. 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 Jeep engine and drove off, taking Patrick home to the Anderson residence, not wanting to anger him.

Upon arriving, Jeff drove into the mansion's premises and parked. Patrick stepped out and walked straight towards the front of their mansion.

Patrick was seething with anger; his blood was boiling as he clicked his black shoes against the cemented ground while approaching their impressive four-story mansion.

He entered the living room, where his new maid, Loveth Logan, greeted him. "Good evening, sir. Welcome home."

Patrick paused and glared at Loveth, but he didn’t respond. Instead, he walked straight to the milk-colored couch in the living room, threw his briefcase onto it, took off his black coat, and draped it over his shoulder. Patrick picked up his briefcase and headed to the elevator, wanting to go up to his luxurious suite.

As he reached the elevator, his mother, Mrs. Eleanor Anderson, a 70-year-old woman suffering from knee pain, stepped out of her room. She glanced irritably at Loveth, who was still mopping the tiled floor. Frowning, Mrs. Anderson turned her attention to Patrick, who was about to enter the elevator as the door opened.

"Son..." Her voice trailed off as she called him back. Patrick paused and glanced at his mother, already knowing that there was nothing expected of him other than to provide them with an heir.

Patrick had four older sisters, all married. His mother had given birth to him last after a ten-year gap with his immediate elder sister.

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

"Good evening, Mother," Patrick muttered, his greeting barely above a whisper. His mother beamed at him as she replied, "Welcome, son. How was your day at the office?"

"Fine, Mother." Patrick sat down on the executive couch with her, and she asked, "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 Corporation?"

Patrick swallowed hard, feeling sweat bead on his forehead at her question.

"Son..." Mrs. Eleanor called for his attention 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." Mrs. Eleanor smiled at Patrick, and he stood up to leave, but she added, "Son, what about your girlfriend, Willow Albert? Why not make arrangements to marry her at once? What’s the matter, son?"

Patrick exhaled deeply, feeling a wave of heat wash over him at her question. He glanced away and made eye contact with Loveth, who smiled warmly and blushed as she continued mopping the tiled floor.

Patrick's unique dark grey eyes scanned her waist in her pink maid uniform. She looked beautiful and cute, leaving him to wonder who had chosen to employ her in their mansion.

Patrick loosened his necktie, rolled it in his palm, and shifted his gaze back to his mother. "Mom, Willow traveled out without informing me. And as if that weren’t enough, she has refused to give me a proper explanation for leaving me and our relationship." He forged that response, of course, as he couldn’t tell his mother the truth about why he broke up with Willow, the insatiable woman who was constantly chasing after 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 at his mother in disbelief.

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

"Okay, son." Mrs. Eleanor smiled at Patrick as he turned to leave and head back to his executive suite on the fourth floor, but her voice stopped him once 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 looked back at Loveth, who had finished mopping the floor. She bowed her head respectfully as she sensed his cold, piercing gaze upon her.

"What do you think of her? Your eldest sister, Isabel Owen, recommended her services to us. She's like a daughter to me and helps me a lot, as I’m getting older and can’t do as much."

"Come, Loveth," Mrs. Eleanor said, signaling for her to come over.

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

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

"It’s an honor to meet you, sir," Loveth said. But Patrick stood speechless, lost in thought.

Was this some sort of temptation or setup by his mother?

Her eyes were shining black, like a cat’s. Her nose was sharply pointed, her lips naturally pink without gloss, and her long, natural blonde hair was tied back in a ponytail.

Her skin looked flawless, like a mix of milk and honey, and Patrick took his time assessing her beauty until his mother's words snapped him out of his reverie.

"Son, I can see you like her. She's also a very good cook, and I can’t help but feel younger and more in love with her."

"Hmm..." Patrick’s eyes narrowed, and he replied to his mother, "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 p.m., and I need to prepare for it."

Without waiting for his mother’s response, Patrick turned and walked away from them. He headed back to the elevator and entered it, going 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. Without warning, the two maids immediately ran out, leaving the sitting room empty. Patrick used the fourth floor all to himself, while the third and second floors were occupied by his elder sisters whenever they were around.

Patrick threw his black coat and necktie onto the nearest couch, dropped his briefcase there too, and walked up to the bar in his sitting room to grab a bottle of wine.

He was furious, and nothing irritated him more than the thought of ending up marrying someone so frivolous.

Patrick took out the bottle, opened it with a swift motion, and chugged down the contents directly from the bottle's mouth, finishing it in one go.

He staggered slightly as he felt the alcohol take effect and sat back on the black stool near the bar top, popping open another bottle.

"I hate you, Willow!" Patrick cursed, just as he heard the sitting room door slide open.