At 8 PM sharp, Patrick Anderson rose from his executive office seat after finishing the day's work.
His assistant, Jeff Hudson, knocked and entered the office to see him.
Patrick's office was located on the 8th floor of his 10-story, multimillion-dollar building and was painted in an ash-grey hue.
Jeff greeted him, "Good evening, boss. Are you leaving for home now?"
Patrick picked up his black coat from his office chair. He donned it to shield himself from the cold wind attacking his cool, dark skin.
The weather was cold and unfriendly.
Patrick then adjusted his necktie and grabbed his briefcase from his office desk.
With one final glance around his vast workspace, Patrick exited his office and stepped into the elevator, which took him down to the first floor of his hotel building.
The hotel was located in the States, in the city of Central. Patrick didn't wait for Jeff Hudson to join him as he marched ahead to his black Maybach, waiting to escort him home.
The stationed bodyguards opened the car door for Patrick to enter. They closed it for him as soon as he settled into the back seat.
Patrick controlled many businesses in the States. His mind was preoccupied with several thoughts, ranging from his elderly parents, who had been urging him to bring a wife, to the numerous competitors who wanted to eliminate him from the business world.
Still, Patrick had kept his identity hidden, and no one knew who the real Patrick Anderson was. He kept his business strategies coded.
Jeff rushed out of the hotel building to join Patrick in the car. Jeff slid into the driver's seat; he was also Patrick’s driver.
He started the car and drove out of the hotel.
Arriving at the Anderson mansion gate, the security guards opened the huge black gate as Jeff drove onto the premises and parked.
Patrick stepped out of the car and walked toward the four-story mansion.
His anger boiled as he clicked his black shoes against the cold cemented ground and walked into the living room.
The new maid, Loveth Logan, was mopping the tiled floor. She glanced back at Patrick as he entered the room.
She smiled and greeted him, "Good evening, sir. Welcome home."
Patrick paused and stared at Loveth. He did not respond to her greeting; he frowned and walked toward the milk-colored couch to drop his briefcase there.
Taking off his black coat, Patrick hung it over his shoulder. He felt the warmth of the heater as it warmed up his cool, dark skin.
Picking up his briefcase, Patrick walked toward the elevator to retire to his chamber on the top floor.
Just then, a 70-year-old woman, Mrs. Eleanor Anderson, walked out of her room on the first floor. She suffered from knee cap pain.
She frowned upon seeing Loveth still mopping the floor of the dining room.
Mrs. Eleanor turned her gaze away and noticed Patrick about to enter the elevator.
"Son..." she called him back.
Patrick froze and looked back at his mother. He met her smiling gaze and walked over to meet her.
She wore a long blue gown, and he approached her, hugging her warmly.
"Good evening, Mother," Patrick greeted, as his words rolled out of his lips like a whisper.
"Welcome, son," Mrs. Eleanor replied with a radiant smile as Patrick escorted her to the couch.
Patrick was the only son. He had four older sisters, and his mother birthed him ten years after his elder sister's birth.
Patrick knew his parents wanted him to give them an heir.
"How was your day at the office?" Mrs. Eleanor asked, finally settling on the couch beside Patrick.
"It was fine, Mother," Patrick replied, seated beside his mother on the couch.
"I can see that. Tell me, when will you finally marry? You're aware that your father and I aren't getting any younger. Or do you not want us to see the next heir of Anderson Corporations?" Mrs. Eleanor inquired.
"Mom..." Patrick frowned and looked away, noticing Loveth, who flashed him a radiant smile.
"Son," Mrs. Eleanor said, her tone soft, to get his attention.
"Mom, you don't have to worry about that yet. I will think about a wife, probably this week or next," Patrick replied.
"Alright, son," Mrs. Eleanor said, and a warm smile crept on her face.
However, Patrick rose from the couch to retire to his bedroom on the fourth floor. He was heartbroken, recalling his girlfriend cheating on him.
"Son, how about your fiancée, Willow Albert? When will you make arrangements to see her family and marry her at once? Or what's the matter, my son?" Mrs. Eleanor questioned, and Patrick sighed as he looked away.
Mrs. Eleanor wondered what was wrong between Patrick and his girlfriend. 'What's stopping them from getting married, as they were so in love?' she pondered.
"Mmm," Patrick felt beads of sweat form on his forehead. He looked away, and his eyes locked with Loveth Logan. She smiled and blushed as she continued mopping the tiled floor happily.
Patrick’s dark-grey eyes scanned Loveth's waist in her pink maid uniform. She looked so beautiful with a nice shape, making him wonder who had deliberately employed her to work in his father's mansion.
Averting his gaze, Patrick looked back at his mother and replied, "Mom, Willow traveled out without informing me and has refused to give me a proper explanation for leaving me."
Patrick couldn't tell his mother the truth about Willow cheating on him. And why did he break up with her? The cheap slut who was 24/7 horny fell for any available rod that wanted to thrust into her.
Mrs. Eleanor sighed and replied, "But I spoke to Willow yesterday, and she told me that you're both fine and still together."
"What?" Patrick stiffened and looked back at his mother in disbelief. Forcing a fake smile and laughing aloud, he replied, "Mom, I'm very tired right now. I need to return to my room and rest. Probably later, we can discuss this."
"Alright, my son," came Mrs. Eleanor’s calm response as she watched Patrick walk away from her and enter the elevator.
Mrs. Eleanor glanced back and saw Loveth. She quickly called Patrick back.
"Son, have you met Loveth Logan, the new maid from Westwood? Her mother is one of the charitable women there contributing to the building economy."
Patrick paused and looked at Loveth, who had just finished mopping the tiled floor. She lowered her head as she felt his piercing, icy gaze.
"What do you think of Loveth? Isabel Owen, your eldest sister, recommended Loveth's services to us. She's like a daughter to me, and I love her service here as she helps me a lot since I am getting old and cannot work as much. Come, Loveth," Mrs. Eleanor waved over for Loveth to come and meet her.
"Loveth, meet my son, Master Patrick Anderson, the sole heir to Anderson Corporation," she said.
Loveth walked toward Patrick's view as he came out of the elevator and stopped.
"It's an honor to meet you, sir," she said.
Patrick froze, standing speechless, as he sank into deep thought.
'Is this some sort of temptation or a setup by my mother?'
Loveth's eyes were shiny black like a panther's. Her nose was pointed. Her lips were naturally pink without any lip gloss. Her long, natural blonde hair was tied in a ponytail. Her skin looked so flawless, like a mixture of milk and honey.
Patrick noticed he took some time to assess Loveth's beauty until his mother's words snapped him out of his trance.
"Patrick, I see that you like Loveth. She is also a good cook, and I cannot help but feel younger and love her more," came Mrs. Eleanor’s calm response.
"Hmm..." Patrick narrowed his eyes at Loveth.
Looking back at his mother, he replied, "It's okay, Mom. It's good to see she's taking good care of you. I have to go up now to my bedroom, as I have an important online business meeting to catch up with at 10 PM, and I need to prepare for it."
"Alright, son. I will send Loveth to deliver your dinner to you," Mrs. Eleanor said, but Patrick did not wait for her to finish her statement.
Patrick entered the elevator and went to the fourth floor.
"Fuck!" Patrick cursed as he walked out of the elevator. He entered his sitting room and strolled over to the purple couch to drop his briefcase.
The sitting room was painted in off-white and had seven purple couches, a flat-screen television, a bar filled with a collection of different wines, a bookshelf, a golden chandelier, and curtains.
Patrick was angry as he recalled the videos of his fiancée Willow having sex with his rival, Tony Miles.
Patrick didn't want to end up marrying a loose woman. He kept his briefcase and coat on the couch, then he strolled over to his bar to grab a drink.
Still seething with anger over the betrayal by Willow, Patrick took a seat on his bar stool and picked out a bottle of alcoholic wine.
He popped it open and drank directly from the bottle, chugging it down in one go.
Patrick finished the wine and grabbed another bottle to get drunk and submerge his anger.
He uncorked another alcoholic wine and finished it in one go.
Patrick grabbed the third bottle and cursed, "I hate you, Willow."
Just then, he heard the sitting room doorbell. The door unlocked, and a maid entered, balancing a tray with his dinner in her hands.
