The mob leader's best friend is a nerd

Chapter 19

Allan, the alligators, POV.

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Ms. Bianchi goes completely silent after lying down beside me. Her black hair touches my face and I gently remove them. They are slightly wet like her clothes. I would normally had brought her too her room so she could take a shower and change, but when I saw her face earlier I couldn't.

I have watched over her closely since she entered the mansion last week. Her acting are quite remarkable, but it doesn't fool us. The others probably noticed already; that Ms. Bianchi tries being normal. But when I saw her earlier- something are more wrong than necessary.

If she ends up with a cold it will be my fault. Mr. Drago might punish me later, but my calculation tells me that the right thing too do is this. The right thing to do, not what I should do.

"Yeah. It would be my pleasure, Allan" she whispers.

The boss are the only one who knows about our encounters and my past. He'd made sure that any data on me are deleted, fake or highly protected. I breath through my nose before starting my little and boring story.

"Once upon a time there was a normal man. The mans name was Alejandro, and he was the most normal man you could imagine. He got average grades and a loving family. His little brother looked up too him, and his parents loved him.

"One day he decided to join the military. It wasn't for the money or any horrific reason, but because he had nothing better to do. His life had been so normal he wanted something exciting and uniq. Some highlight in his life that he could tell his future kids or grandchildren.

"His parent was against it and his little brother cried his eyes out, but Alejandro still left. He was so excited. "Finally! Finally some action in my life!" he though till the hardship punched his face harder than ever. The training was excruciating and the food was unrecognizable. The teenager that was spoiled of happiness and comfort hated the boot camp. He wanted to go home too his parents and friends. He wanted his own room and play the latest games, but his prayers was ignored.

"After a year of boot camp, and without seeing his family, he was sent directly too a battlefield. Alejandro was only an errand boy. He stayed in the "safe zones" and lent some extra hands wherever needed them. Still, he could hear in the distant gun shots and bombs being fired. The ground was shaking or moving in some way constantly, and people was running in all directions. Everyday in two weeks he saw injured, half-dead, corpse or whats left of them, and in those weeks that brat died"

I stop to let the memories flow through my head. Let the smell of gunpowder, alcohol and blood blow away with the wind. Let the pictures of dead eyes and chopped off arms burn and blow with the smell. Why am I even feeling a tingle in my chest from this? This isn't even the worst part.

"He was eventually sent back too his family after those two weeks, but his family didn't recognize their son or big brother. His week with them was awkward and uncomfortable. His habits from the camp was foreign in their house, and they looked at him differently. The home he dreamed of every night was different so when that week ended he became more focused. He didn't have any worthless dreams any longer and focused on himself. His survival.

"He joined the army after the boot camp. He trained and bit his tongue, and did everything his superiors ordered without a complaint. Then he was sent for the first time too the real battle field."

Mr. Bianchi gaps, but quickly covers it. The stars on my roof comfort me while I tell this tale, and the whole picture calms me. This story aren't really that bad. I've heard worse, but I feel it fits with Ms. Bianchi's well.