The Code To A Don's Heart

t w o

"What business do you have here?"

I pressed my freezing fingers down on the button of the intercom in front of the large iron gate. The temperatures had long since dropped and it had been a very long walk from the subway to where I was now. Up the driveway, a beautiful mansion sat imposingly on the top of the gentle slope, illuminated by the dozens of lights on inside and outside the building. Randomly, a guard or two passed by. Once upon a time, my dad worked as those guards.

"I'm here to see one of the residents of the house," I said unsurely.

"Which one?" the person on the other side asked. "If you've come to see a worker, go round your left to the servant's entrance.

I pressed the button again. "No, no. I'm here to see Miss Kay Gates or Logan Gates, whoever is around." The com went silent. "This is the Gates Manor right?"

"Yes, yes. One minute," the person grumbled but I didn't think I had a minute. I was freezing out here.

Kay and Logan Gates were the daughter and son of Andre and Emily Gates. They were a rich family dealt with tech and this is where I learned to love it from. My dad used to work as a guard here for a while but since he couldn't always leave me home alone during the holidays, I spent my time here. Kay and Logan were as close to me as any aunt and uncle I'd ever had. They were the ones who bought me my laptop on my 16th, engraved with a peach. They were the best really.

"Miss Gates does not wish to have any visitors at the moment."

The voice from the intercom brought my focus back. "Could you please tell her it's Peach McCoy?"

Silence, my old friend.

It seemed like I waited for hours before the iron gates opened.

"Come right in. She's in the second drawing room."

I walked up the driveway, my backpack bouncing. I rubbed my hands together to get some heat and prevent them from freezing completely and falling off. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and checked the location of Viktor Makarovich. He was at my apartment. I sighed. I guess I was homeless now because there was no way I was getting back to that building. I tucked my phone away as I reached the front of the manor and the door was opened for me by a young looking butler.

I thanked him and made my way to the second drawing room. I knew this house backwards and forwards. Every room in this house was familiar to me though the one I constantly avoided was the late Andre Gates' old study. It was where him and his wife were shot dead by an unknown criminal. The case had grown cold but I wondered if not acquiring justice for their parents disturbed the two Gates siblings. There used to be three though but the last child, a girl I think her name was Delilah or Dalia. She was killed when she was just 14. Again, her case went cold as well. I always did pity the siblings for the misfortune that followed them.

When I entered the drawing room, Miss Kay was sipping wine out of a long glass, dressed in a fluffy maroon robe. When I entered she smiled and rose.

"Oh little Peach," she said softly. "It's so nice to see you darling. You've grown."

I smiled and got close. "Hi Miss Kay. It's nice to see you too."

I pulled down my hood when I begun to talk to her, causing my coily hair to bounce. My father would never talk to me if I was covering my face somehow. He said you should always be clear, direct and open when addressing someone especially one with a higher rank that you. Thinking of him made my heart ache. I should visit him but I can't. Viktor Makarovich was onto me.

"Love the hair," Miss Kay commented and then she waved and arm to the couch. "Please Peach, sit."

I did and she settled into the chair next to me. The seats were antique like everything in this room. The floor was wooden, the walls grey and filled with paintings. Everything about this place was homely. The soft orange glow of the lights, the smell of old books and the earthly colours of all the tables and furniture. Even the piano in the corner fit in with its beautiful black wood. The only thing that seemed out of place was Miss Kay because of how imposing she seemed.