A/N: Trying this Third POV thing for the first time. Excuse my mistakes (if any). Enjoy :)

****

Marcus Agostini did not understand why he went wrong in life. He did wrong things for a living, proved people wrong but never understood why he actually went wrong. Not where, why. It was simple proven fact that he knew where he went wrong but never understood why. He did everything to keep his family safe. He took out all his enemies, finished them all so that his future and his future generations would be safe and maintain that safety. It took every ounce of his energy, blood and sweat to stand where he was now.

Alone.

He scoffed to himself and drank his morning tea while watching the vast luscious green fields dance in the summer wind through his huge glass paned window in his office.

There was a time when he was not alone. He had people that genuinely cared about him, some even claimed to love him. Lies. He never had time for useless emotions. They were signs of weakness and he knew weakness too well now. His folks were weak. His father, rest his pathetic weak soul, shot dead by an old enemy who also died by a gun shot. A useless fight it was. Both parties dead. His mother, rest her dumb soul too, couldn't bear the pain. In the night of her deceased husband's funeral, she was gone too, leaving behind a barely two year old son who was then raised by nannies and was taught everything he had to learn through his education days. He never felt his parent's absence. Always been too busy to even think about them. He just remembered them as his makers who brought him to this dark side of the world.

Decades later, he finds his younger son weak and God forbid if he turned out weak too. Too bad he knew that it will always come flying back to the Agostini family like a bug and bite him too. What a shame, he thought.

He knows he has no control over this certain love bug, which was something he despises.

Who knew that one fine day, he too was a victim of that nasty little bug.

Suddenly, the taste of his morning tea became sour yet he kept drinking it. It had been a really long while since he had ever thought of her too. He had permanently closed that chapter of his life, just like his deceased folks. Got engrossed in his work so much that he had forgotten that she was still here, only floors away. Everything was perfect until that cruel, little vixen named Amelia Jones, now Amelia Jones Agostini since yesterday, opened her big mouth and brought back awful memories which were locked away.

Devil save us all from that abomination of her finally carrying our family name.

She was good. Clever good. Found out everything on her own and used his own actions against him. If she would have find it out everything on their first meeting, he might have actually considered her to be a part of his working family. She could have been the first woman who would actually do some dirty work for the family and not indulge in prostitution. Shame, she took a lot of time and that offer got closed as quickly as it came.

Marcus sighed deeply. What that vixen knew were bits and pieces, some old lies, a small summary of his life in early twenties.

His life story was simple.

He was young when he saw her. He saw her. He wanted her. He had got her. He loved her. She loved him back. He saw her dream of seeing the entire world and dreamt it with her. He saw her forge useless plans to get out of this cruel life but when the time came, he let her go.

Of course she came back to him. Their love for each other was strong. One week later, she came knocking on his doorstep.

"I don't need to see the outside world if I have mine right here."

Some world, am I now? He scoffed to himself again and finished his morning tea.

Everything was well after she came back. They got married, he vowed to fulfill her dream of seeing the world, so he took her places. Rome. Paris. Berlin. London. New York. Las Vegas. Peru. Tokyo and many other cities until one morning she got sick and later gave him the news of becoming a father.

He was glad but had no idea how to be one. He still doesn't.

They settled here for life. Had a boy, started a family or so he thought. One mistake, one decision in haste and all was ruined forever.

And that's how he knew where he went wrong.

At least he saw how his now ex-wife was two faced witch who wishes him dead everyday. Nevertheless, she was his Louie a long time ago.

Succeeded as a business man in professional life, failed as a husband and a father in personal life. That was Marcus Agostini. Devil better pick him soon personally and take him to Hell if he fails as a grandfather today.

The empty cup in his hands had grown strangely cold now and he was taking in all the silence he could for a few more minutes before all hell would break loose in his office.

Sacrifices for love. Marcus used to remind himself in his early days when he used to go to sleep alone in their matrimonial bed after everything got ruined by his hands. They all were safe and sound. That is all which matters to him. His blood had a brother to keep him company and now a wife. That witch of his ex-wife got what she wanted and he... He was now alone in his office, early retired from work with no family to spend time with.

Well not exactly alone...

A sharp cry broke his train of thoughts and he exhaled sharply, mentally bidding farewell to his peaceful silence for the next two weeks.

He placed his cup on his desk and strode towards the source of this unwanted noise.

"Morning." He grumbled, peering down at the colourful crib. "How nice of you to wake up with such noise. You just surpassed your mother's level of making my ears pain."

The infant kept crying. He picked him up clumsily, soon got adjusted on holding his grandchild properly and patted his head. "Stop crying. Did that bug bite you already?"

The crying did not stop at all. From being a powerful business man, a drug Lord, a merciless killer and negotiator to an all time struggling babysitter for his barely a four month old grandson. That truly was Marcus Agostini.

"What is wrong with you?" He asked the crying baby and gently started to rock him in his arms as he walked over his desk back and forth. It has only been a few hours since Marcus got landed on a job of being a full time babysitter for two weeks (forced to take the job, as he would correct) and he is already frustrated. He knows perfectly well on how to shut an adult up for good. Put a bullet or two in head. But a mere infant? He can't do that. Not to his grandson.

He heard a rapt knock on his door.

"Enter." He ordered, his voice louder than his grandson's nonstop crying.

An unfamiliar blonde head popped in behind the door. A woman. She looked somewhat familiar to Marcus and silently watched her walk timidly toward his desk and place a small note then slide it to him.

'Good morning, boss. It's Baby Sandy's feeding time. There is some milk in the bag. That should calm him down.'

Baby Sandy? How can she dare to call his grandson Sandy?

Alessandro Agostini. Named after his grandfather of five generations behind, Marcus himself chose that name when it was time. The name itself held power, strength, pride and wealth. Defender of mankind as so it is written in history.

And she calls him Sandy. Pathetic.

Marcus stared at the woman and remembered her from yesterday. Ah yes, she was the maid of honour at the wedding. Partially mute. He was ashamed of his elder son's actions, but chose not to interfere in his life too after events which happened in the past.

And the woman... she had the audacity to ask him out for a dance! He remembered her really well now.

"Fine. You may leave now." He dismissed her and took long strides to the colourful side of his office. He must admit, it felt strange to see so many colours, so many toys, diaper bags and child care things in his monochromed coloured office. It had been a really long time since he had even held an infant in his arms, let alone make an effort to take care of one. The last time being his own son in his infant days of course and that was more than two decades ago, nearly three.

"All right. There you go. Drink milk and stay shush. Your parents are not here so that does not mean that you will trouble me. You will pay a price for that." With that, he stuffed the teat of the bottle in his grandson's small mouth and watched him suckle. A big relief to Marcus' ears.

The baby kept staring at Marcus with big hazel eyes. For once, Marcus was proud of his family's strong genes. He looked exactly like Leonardo in his infant days and knew that he would grow up to be a lot more stronger and fiercer than his father, his grandfather and generations before. For now, the baby has to finish his milk and spend two weeks with his grumpy grandpa.

Marcus intently saw how Alessandro drained milk out of the bottle fast, pulled the teat out of his mouth and babbled in joy.

His lips twitched to a small smile and once again, pride swelled his cold heart. From the moment he laid eyes on this child and first held him, he knew he would lay down his life for him but he also knows that a situation like that will never come. He personally made sure of it. Marcus Agostini will live a long life and will hold his great grandchild before he finally rests cold in his grave.

Alessandro started crying again.

Marcus threw his head back and groaned in frustration. What is his problem now? Why can't he just stay quiet?

A few minutes of headache from Marcus' side and nonstop crying from Alessandro's side later, the inexperienced man absentmindedly mumbled 'enter' when he miraculously heard another knock on his door again in amidst of so much noise. That same woman entered and he became wary of her immediately.

Was she spying on them? An enemy he had accidentally left out? No. She was the maid of honour at his son's wedding yesterday. She must be a trusted woman of that little blabbering vixen he now had to accept as his daughter in law.

"Yes?"

She gave him another note. 'Bath time. Shall I take him? We will be back in thirty minutes, boss.'

"First let him stop crying, woman. You can take him later." He kept rocking the baby in his arms but there was no progress. He had no clue about what was wrong with his grandson.

Lips pursued, her head jerked a nod. Instead of the woman walking away, Marcus simply raised an eyebrow when he saw her take a note pad and a pen out from her apron pocket and write something in it.

'You did feed him milk, right? Did you make him burp?'

His lips twisted nastily. So it is just gas. What kind of human did that vixen gave birth to? Can't even burp on his own? It was all reflex. Alessandro should get over it already. Call him partially human who is now slightly embarrassed and clueless about an infant's digestive system, he asked. "How do I make him burp?"

This is not him. Marcus Agostini never asks for help. He never had to. He did (cruel) favours and made sure that they were all well returned in time. But in terms of actually showing some care towards somebody, Marcus was a hopeless case. He admits it himself. The woman sighed and wrote. 'Rub his back. I'll be back after he quietens down, boss.'

Fascinating, he thought and gently started rubbing his grandson's back.

After a minute or two, he heard a faint noise and felt something disgustingly wet on his shirt.

Oh God, no.

Was this some sort of revenge his dead enemies were taking on him by coming back to his life as a vomiting baby?

It was all her fault. Leonardo's wife. She purposely put him in trouble by handing over the sleeping infant to him and instructing to take care of Alessandro for two weeks while she enjoyed her honeymoon with her husband in Middle East. There are others who could take care of the heir properly, some eager ones and some experienced ones but no. Amelia Jones Agostini wanted her so-called Papa to take care of her son and was quite stubborn about it too! Calling out his elder son to take the child away would be of no use. With Leonardo on a vacation, it was Adrian's responsibility to look after everything and Marcus knew very well what an extreme responsibility it was.

God forbid, he'll run out of shirts if Alessandro pukes on every meal he takes.

He does not remember Leonardo puking so much in his young days. He remembered changing diapers (which was something he had become an expert in. A lost personal hidden talent) and feeding him milk and semi-solids food along with some night routines of lulling him to sleep. He left the rest to his mother, or maybe because he always left when his crying became unbearable and let him cry till his mother came. Again, he never knew how to father a child. He was terrible at it. Instead, he chose to become a mentor till he was ready to step up the ladder of success on his own. There was a huge difference in it.

The crying subdued to small hiccups and Marcus sighed in relief, still holding Alessandro close to his chest. He didn't care if his shirt got more smudged with puke. He was finally at peace with the boy and that was all which mattered to him.

"Sshhh..." His huge rough hands caressed the baby's small, soft young head. Alessandro stirred and garbled something no human will ever understand. Marcus sighed again. "Don't you ever tell your father about this. If you do, I will hunt you down."

Great. Threatening an almost four month old baby. Is this what his life come to?

Marcus noticed that his grandson was already tired from crying and was now eating his little hand. "Bad manners." Marcus frowned and pulled his grandson's hand out of his mouth. "You will have your breakfast soon but you should always take a bath first."

As if on cue, he heard a knock on his door for the third time in less than an hour. The same woman, once again, popped her head inside and smiled.

Okay. Now he has got to know. His door was closed and his office was built soundproof. There's no way she could have heard the crying stop.

"How did you know?" He asked accusingly. "How did you know that he stopped crying?"

The woman had the audacity to roll her eyes at him. Marcus' scowl got deeper and darker. Nobody rolls their eyes in front of him. Except Alessandro's mother and occasionally his elder son.

She wrote. 'Baby monitor, boss. There are four of them newly installed. One is with me, one in the kitchen, one in your office and the last one in our head housekeepers' bedroom.'

For the first time in more than two decades, Marcus felt an ill churning feeling in his chest. Head housekeepers' bedroom? Was that two faced witch listening to him all the time from her room?

He then remembered the wedding which took place yesterday. He did not fail to notice how gracefully she avoided him and his face. Louisa managed to be in the same room with him for an entire day yet did not catch any attention nor suspicion about her avoiding the retired boss. He did not even get to see a single strand of her hair and any other part of her but he knew that she was there, watching her first and only born child getting married.

"I see. So will you be taking his bath?"

To his surprise, the woman shook her head and wrote. 'No. Our Head has taken the responsibility to do so.'

Anger boiled in his veins. Now he finally understood. That witch was trying to steal his grandson away from him and have the child all to herself.

So without thinking anything about the consequences, Marcus found himself saying. "Alessandro will have his bath in my bathroom. Tell her that and also tell her to bring his breakfast with her."

*****

What has he done?

Why did he do it?

What was he thinking?

Marcus had never felt so miserable in his life. Maybe there was time where he regretted his words and actions a long ago but he just couldn't believe that he made another mistake.

He literally ordered his ex-wife to see him after two decades and counting.

Will she come? The question was lingering in his mind for the past half hour. Louisa had made her intentions very clear the day they ended their marriage. She has nothing to do with him and never wants to see his face ever again. Marcus hadn't seen her since then, though he knew she was living under the same roof. She made sure that their paths never cross again.

Alessandro was bored. He had resumed in eating his hand again and rubbing his baby face on his grandfather's pukey shirt along with some occasional stirring and making noises. He needed a bath very badly.

She will not come. She hates me to her core after what I did. It would be foolishness if she did. No. Not foolishness. Something else. Something which already died between us long ago. Marcus thought with a grim expression on his face. No. I should stop thinking about these useless things. Waste of time. But for the sake of her first grandson, she might come. He added a thought at last.

"What do you think, Alessandro?" He asked the baby. Heavy drool was flowing out of his mouth and mixing with his puke. Marcus had never felt so amazingly disgusted in his entire life. "You think your grandma will come here?"

The boy babbled and slapped his grandpa's dirty shirt in joy.

"I'll take that as a yes."

Forty five minutes passed and there was no sign of the woman he once used to get crazy about. Alessandro was fussy. Marcus noticed how his tiny fists were clenching and gripping his shirt, trying to move a lot and jump away from grandfather's arms. He concluded that his grandson's grandmother was not coming so he had to give the child a bath on his own. The problem? Marcus had no idea whether Alessandro bathes in cold water or hot water or luke warm water which is not exactly hot and cold altogether or directly in a shower. Though the image of a four month old baby standing in a shower was absurd, Marcus was open to all options.

What if he puts water in his ears and catches cold? What if he eats the soap foam or drink the dirty water? Babies are useless. Marcus concluded with a scoff.

Suddenly the door of his office burst open and as a reflex, he held his grandson really close while his other hand ventured down his desk where his rifle was hidden, locked, loaded and ready to shoot the intruder.

"You were told one thing, Marcus! One thing! Hand over my baby so that I could give him a bath but you just had to ruin everything!"

He couldn't believe his eyes.

She came.

Twenty four years, eight months and fourteen days later, she finally came. Oh, he remembered it well. He remembered it really very well. Marcus does not know how but he does... he always did. After all, he was paying the price of his mistake all these years by staying away from her.

"Louie," He rasped, the name itself giving him old, familiar sensations.

She had aged beautifully. In fact, she had grown more beautiful over the years. Marcus was seeing a fallen angel in front of him, an angel he had fallen madly for when he first saw her through his bedroom window. She was watering the plants in their outdoor garden. One day passed, two days passed, an entire week passed and a twenty year old Marcus realised that it was her daily routine to help their gardner water the plants at a certain time. A few more weeks passed and Marcus sometimes saw the woman sweeping the floor or dusting off the paintings but he would always watch her in the gardens from afar. Then one lovely evening, after finishing up his day's training, young Marcus finally mustered up the courage to talk to her.

The rest was history.

Alessandro's cries threw him out his memory train to early twenties and he scowled at the old witchy woman, displeased. "Look what you did, woman. You made the child cry."

Her eyes narrowed to slits. "I made the child cry? First, the child you speak about is our grandson. He has a name. You named him. Second, he has been crying all morning because you are the worst grandfather figure material any child can ever have and lastly, you don't get to call me Louie ever again. Am I clear?"

"How dare you call me––"

"Am. I. Clear?"

Only she had the power to set him straight and not surprisingly, she still had it in her but she was misusing it.

"Yes." Marcus muttered and gently rocked the crying baby in his arms. Without any word, Louisa started searching in the bags which were placed near the crib. "Don't go on your grandma's goody two shoes attitude, Alessandro. She's a bad woman." Marcus whispered to the infant in his arms. "That's your first lesson in this world."

He received a wet fart as a reply. A cold sweat ran down his spine and very slowly, he raised his grandson high and smelled his butt. The colour of his face drained in a very fast manner and he choked on a dry gag.

Oh Devil, I am ready to be picked up by you any time now.

"God, what is that awful smell?" His witch of an ex-wife asked and turned around. A very cruel smile appeared on her innocent face when she finally took in his attire. "Oh my. It's a shame that he didn't puke all over your disgusting face. Good thing that he pooped in your hands."

How was she behaving so normal after seeing him after so many years? It was no doubt that she surprised him with this normal bitchy behavior of hers towards him. Had she become so blinded by hatred for him that it consumed her mind? Did he finally not mean anything to her so much that his presence didn't bother her anymore?

Marcus was confused. His head was throbbing, he needed a hot shower badly and remove the stench of poop and puke off him. This new attitude problem of his ex was the perfect cherry on top. It had barely been three hours since the baby woke up and he was already tired.

Maybe he could drop the crying baby, run away, fly to Mexico and change his identity. Nobody will ever find him.

Oh God. No. What was wrong with him? Marcus Agostini was not the running type. He stands firm and fights his problems. He will never hurt his grandson.

"Okay, I got his soap, towel, squeaky duck, lotions, diaper and clothes out. Now give Baby Sandy to me and I'll make him clean as he was before."

Baby Sandy? Not her too! Why did everybody in this mansion made a joke out of his grandson's name?

Marcus kept staring at her, hoping that she would say something else, something regarding him or maybe ask how he had been but nothing. Instead Louisa simply gestured him to give up the child to her.

He sighed. He should stop overthinking about useless things. They were a total waste of his time. She came to give Alessandro a bath, so she was determined to do that and walk out of here. She held no feelings for his grandfather. Not anymore.

They weren't in their twenties anymore but damn, seeing her after all these years made Marcus jump straight back to his twenties. It was difficult for him to be sane around her. Another mistake and now he was again paying the price.

"Give me my baby."

"Come here and take him."

Louisa stood firm on her place. "If you don't want a bleeding nose, I suggest you to give me my grandson."

Finally she was showing her true self. She was bad, but he was badder than her. Only a few minutes ago, she called Alessandro our grandson and now she changed her mind. Fiesty as always, Marcus smirked.

"Old man problems." Marcus lied smoothly, controlling the urge to cover his grandson's mouth with his palm so that he could muffle his cries. He works out five times a week for two hours and for the other two days, he would do yoga and go for a jog around the property early morning. He was healthy as a horse. Screw old man problems. "I prefer sitting here rather than walking to you and hand him over. You can come here and take him... or do you have some old lady problems too?"

He was provoking her. He knew that and somehow he knew that she knew it too.

She glared at him which could kill him over and over again. "I said... Give. Me. My. Grandson."

"So you do have old lady problems." He thought out loud. "No need to be ashamed of it."

Scowling, his ex walked around his desk till she was standing beside him and took the crying infant from his grasp. Marcus did not fail to notice how she avoided his touch.

"Oh, yes, yes. I know, baby. I know." She cooed and made kissy faces for her grandson. "Grandma is here now. She'll make you comfortable and clean. See, she got you your duck to play with. Squeak. Squeak." She pressed the yellow rubber duck and gave it to Alessandro.

He threw the duck away. How wonderful.

Marcus wanted to see and learn how to give his grandson a bath so he got up from his chair to follow them, only to be pushed back and have a sharp knife pointed at his throat.

"Not a single movement, Marcus." Louisa threatened, digging the knife deeper to his throat. He felt a long, thin trail of blood flow down to his shirt. Much to their surprise, Alessandro stopped crying and tried to grab the knife to play with.

Marcus was already proud of him. That boy had sure got some killer genes. No pun intended.

"You move, I move this knife and have the pleasure of watching you choke on your own blood. We wouldn't want to stain my Baby Sandy's innocence with his grandpa dying in front of him, do we?"

Marcus' eyes widened only to a quarter of a milimeter. So she came here prepared. He wonders what else she has in her mind. Tying him to his chair and put a gag on his mouth? Maybe torturing? She knew his methods of torturing very well. There was no doubt that Louisa could use them all on him.

"Do we now?" Fire of vengeance was burning in her eyes. "I want a yes or a no for my answer, Marcus. I don't have much patience when it comes to you."

"Yes, Louie." He managed a choke and his jaw clenched when she increased the pressure of the knife on his throat. He could easily snatch it and throw it away. His hands were free but she was holding his grandson and Marcus actually cared about his grandson.

"Do your old man problems come with partial deafness, Marcus?" She asked, gritting her teeth in anger. "I clearly said that you don't get to call me that. You dishonoured and kicked that woman out of your life. Consider me merciful enough for not ending your boring life for the sake of Alessandro right now."

His lips twisted nastily. "Boring life? From what we had agreed and considering the time which has passed, your pesky little friends are not here with you anymore. You send them all away. You must be terribly bored now."

"Not all of them, Marcus." She hissed. "I still have one left with me and we both are enough to team up and teach you a lesson personally. The last time I saw her, she was crying her heart out yesterday after she find out, through a silly joke, that she accidentally killed your son's pet lizard a couple of years ago. Who knows? She might be in the kitchen right now, listening to us."

"Why did it went wrong with us?" He asked, not being able to control his vulnerable side around her anymore. It was like he was transported back to his twenties, the time where he was crazy in love with this woman. Maybe he still is after all these years...

"No." She answered, gulping hard. "You went wrong, Marcus. So I suggest you to stay in your limits and stop trying to ask anything else in vain. I came here to give our grandson a bath because your clueless, dumb mind asked for it. This little shiny, sharp object here is just a warning. Do you get that clear?"

He nodded wordlessly, his eyes fixed on his curious, thumb sucking grandson.

"Good. Now, you will not move unless we go inside the bathroom. While I am giving bathing Sandy, you will get rid of this dirty attire. It's a simple plan so don't you dare ruin it. Later, I'll leave and we will go back pretending that past one hour never happened in our lives."

The moment his office's bathroom door closed, Marcus sprang out of his chair and dashed straight into his bedroom's bathroom. Got rid of his clothes, threw them in the laundry hamper except his shirt which he threw it in the bin, took a shower, trimmed his chin beard, wore a light scented perfume and styled his hair. He had grey streaks here and there but it suited him and maybe because if he ever opt for colouring them, nobody would ever be able to point out the difference between him and his son. After so many years, Marcus was feeling giddy like his twenty year old self going on a first date with the woman he had a huge crush on. The feeling itself was so familiar and exciting that he had forgotten what it used to feel like when he was around her.

And she just made the perfect first impression.

When he came back to his office, he met with silence except for a faint babbling sound of his grandson, lying on his desk which was covered with a huge soft sheet and lots of pillows. Alessandro was bathed, lotionized, clothed as a yellow giraffe and had a new diaper. He was a happy baby now and smelled incredibly good.

But she was gone. Like she never came to see Marcus after twenty four years, eight months and fourteen days. Just like she said, the past one hour never happened in their lives. She didn't ask how he was and neither did he. Their meeting was short, determined and it ended soon. Too soon. She loved their grandson as much as he did but she hated him thrice more than that. She would never forgive him for what he had done to her, to their broken marriage even when he would be cold in his grave. She had always been the stubborn one and he didn't get the chance to touch her and see whether she was real or a figment of his imagination. The only proof of her arrival was the faint mark of knife on his throat and a gleeful, fresh baby.

Marcus picked up his grandson and placed him inside his crib. He then arranged the highchair for breakfast time. He had enough milk for today but he had learnt that his grandson had started taking some puree as food. There wasn't any in the bags or on his coffee table.

Wait a minute. That woman forgot to bring Alessandro's breakfast.

Marcus started laughing alone in his office and was later joined by his grandson's. It had been a really long time since he had one so heartily and full of joy. Occasional cackle and snorts were different, and this was different.

Marcus didn't care if Amelia had purposely left Alessandro in his care. He finally understood her true intentions. It was a known fact that she knew Louisa would bathe her son in her absence. She just played the role of a match maker.

Stupid, insolent girl. Marcus was a lot more cleverer than her, though over the years, she had managed to earn some respect and mutual understanding from him. He was not going to give in to her traps.

He would lay his own.

Devil, you better not pick me up in two weeks if I manage to survive my ex-wife's torture in the given time.

He called out one of his men and gave an order to inform the head of household that she forgot his grandson's breakfast and bring it to him personally.

Finally, he sat on his chair, Alessandro in his arms, all prepared for his breakfast by wearing a bib, and he began waiting.

He waited for almost twenty five years. He didn't mind waiting for twenty five minutes and trap her into babysitting with him for two weeks. She wouldn't be his life partner, she would be his babysitting partner. At least, that was a start.

Besides, he had his adorable grandson on his side to support him no matter how much torture he would suffer when she enters his life again.