New York City, home to many and an ocean of power, wealth to the craving entrepreneurs and leading businessmen.

The bright sun rose high in the sky, above the dozens of skyscrapers basking the glass curtain walls this astounding structures have, with a mirror image of the blue sky.

One of this skyscraper belonged to one phenomenal man. The construction of the building was to be reckoned. Many already knew the uproar this structure and its owner had caused. Many admired them both for their finest outlook.

The glass figure was placed in the financial district of manhattan. The floors of this beautifully structured corporate building tended to be always busy. Many floors were rented by the finest law firms and charity organisations but not the top floors. They were solely used for the owners ever growing expand of construction empire.

One of the most leading architect of the city hired by none other than the owner of this building, the CEO of the Sanders Corporation designed this buildings inside-out as the owner wanted nothing but perfection.

The CEO's room was specifically built under his supervision. He made sure every corner of this room was to his liking. The sight from the top always oversees the Central Park to the north, the tallest building to the south, Brooklyn and New Jersey to the east and west. The man who enjoys this sight with great pleasure was standing behind the floor to ceiling glass windows of his office room right about now, deep in thought.

Knock, Knock

Two timid knocks on his door shattered his tumbled thoughts and he closed his eyes slipping those at the back of his mind instantly. The reopen of his steel like grey eyes brought forth the man everyone knew, the businessman everyone was familiar with.

He ordered the intruder in his office with his deep voice, even though no one was supposed to interrupt him for half an hour. The door opened slightly baring his secretary of two years who was strongly infatuated with him. The sultry voice of her floated to him. "Mr. Sanders?"

His head slightly moved to his left indicating he heard her call which was enough for her to voice her reason to be in the room. "Your mother is on line 2, Sir."

People knew his way of business. He never mixed pleasure with business. In his view, the office was a place to work his way to the top. He wanted to reach heights that had never been reached by any economic men in the city. This wasn't a place to waste time scandalising with the workers. They were paid to work for him and work they shall do only.

He nodded to his worker then upon receiving only silence in return, she closed the door. His feet took powerful strides over the royal blue carpeted floor and reached his desk.

"Hello, Mom."

The voice of his mother came in a rush, "Honey, I've been trying to call--"

But he didn't let her finish by asking his own question, "What did she do now?"

He knew. He always knew when the call about the next strike would reach him and it seemed the time was now.

"It was the ink pot in your study room. She mixed it in the shampoo so as you can guess the result was the change of hair colour. It's ink and that's hard to wash out. Poor Samantha searching all over the internet for a solution." The tired tone was evident in her voice. At his threatening silence, his mother asked him. "Are you coming home then?"

"Hair colour? That's new." He realised quietly.

"I know, dear. It's getting out of hand. You should come home and talk to her."

On his way to work, he forgot to lock the study room. A mistake from his side. He never was the one to forget things easily but these few days had his mind clouded with many perceptions.

Finally, he sighed after making a quick decision. "I'll see you soon, mom."

After cutting the call, he picked up his suit jacket and walked out of his office all the way chuckling at the image of black ink on blonde hair.

******

The house was very quiet. Upon entering his living room, his eyes immediately spotted the little girl sitting on the couch, probably waiting for him.

He stepped further in the room, his shoes making enough sounds on the ceramic tiles, bewaring the red-haired of his presence.

When he was few steps away from the couch, he inquired. "Lydia, why would you do something like that? I warned you, didn't I?"

She gave an uncaring nudge of her shoulders without turning her head. "She couldn't help me colour my homework. So I coloured her hair even though it all washed away. What a waste!"

Her regular antics were wearing out his patience. Thus he couldn't help himself from raising his voice. "Yes. What a waste but what a waste of your time!" He shouted. "Always the same thing Lydia. The last one couldn't braid your hair properly. Her last one couldn't fold your dresses the way you wanted. They are here to watch you and guide you, Lydia!"

The little girl stood up and answered in a pitchy voice that already started an ache in his head. "It's not my fault they can't do their work properly."

His patience was gone. Simply gone. "How will they do their work if you ran them away? How many more nanny would I hire for you, Lydia?"

Her patience was gone too. Simply gone. She turned and started running toward the stairs but stopped suddenly and stubborn grey eyes met angry grey eyes.

"I never wanted a nanny. I always wanted a mommy."