Patrick Anderson, a 27-year-old Black man, stood up from his executive office seat. He was through for the day’s work. At 8 p.m. sharp, his personal assistant, Jeff Hudson, knocked and stepped into his executive office, painted ash gray, to see him. “Good evening, boss. Are you leaving for home now?” Jeff asked. Patrick, dressed in a red-colored pocket shirt and plain black trousers, stared at Jeff like a piece of trash. He did not respond as he stepped from his office seat, picked up his black coat hanging on the chair, and put it on to shield his cool, dark skin from the cold weather. Patrick adjusted his necktie, snatched his briefcase from the desk and, with a final glance, walked out of the executive office of his luxury hotel, leaving Jeff Hudson speechless. Furthermore, Patrick owned a vast range of secret businesses in the state, and his mind was preoccupied with thoughts ranging from his parents’ constant pressure to bring home a wife to the list of competitors who wante
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