It's My Life
A/N: This is a spin off prequel-type fic of the drabble song-fic 'Start a Fire' and goes into what Zelmira Pasolini, my OC and the lover of Xanxus, was getting up to in the three years before they met as well as the day they did so. This fic will probably not be any longer than five chapters.
DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN KHR OR THE SONG THAT INSPIRED THIS FIC (IT'S MY LIFE BY BON JOVI). I ONLY OWN THE OC'S AND THE LAPTOP THAT THIS FIC WAS WRITTEN ON.
It's my life
It's now or never
I ain't gonna live forever
I just want to live while I'm alive
IMLKHR
Chapter One
Zelmira, age fifteen to sixteen
"Papa! Why won't you let me leave the manor?"
"It's too dangerous mia figlia; you would get hurt. I don't want to lose you like I lost your mother."
"But ho quindici anni, papa! I can take care of myself!"
"I know you can mio cara, however my answer is still no."
"Papa, it's not fair! I haven't any friends and everyone else my age is allowed to go out but you keep me locked away like a bird in a gilded cage!"
"How about I make you a deal then, mia figlia?" Don Pasolini sighed; this argument had been going on and on since his daughter had turned fourteen and he was getting tired of it. He'd been protective of her since her mother, his wife Elvera, had been killed by assassins when their daughter was seven.
"What sort of deal, papa?" Zelmira asked warily.
"You wait until your sixteenth birthday when we have a celebration ball, like a debutante. This will serve to introduce you to our Famiglia's allies and the neutral Famiglia's. You keep up your studies, ballet and self-defence with your tutors or the celebration will be postponed until you're seventeen. After the ball, you'll be allowed to spend a few hours each day out of the manor while you're under guard."
"Fine, I guess I can agree to that; I doubt you'd let me try to convince you to change it up a little bit…like the no guard thing."
"You'd be right about that. Until you're married, you aren't leaving this manor without a guard or escort. You're my only child and the heiress to the Pasolini Famiglia; you'll be the Sesta Pasolini Donna. If I lose you, the Famiglia dies out and our territory absorbed by the closest Famiglia, the Giordano, which is currently ruled by Don Marco Giordano and he's a violent asshole. If he got hold of our territory, he'd likely start a war with the Russo Famiglia for their territory which would bring the Vindice down on them." Luciano told his daughter, frowning lightly.
"I think I understand, papa. I'm going to go read for a while." Zelmira sighed, leaving his office. Luciano was glad she didn't make more of a fuss; he was stressed enough with Giordano Ottavo pressuring him for his daughter's hand which would never happen.
'I need to contact Cavallone Nono. Having his support should make Giordano Ottavo back off for a while at least.' He thought as he returned to his paperwork.
Six months later…
Zelmira wiped away the fog on the mirror from the shower after wrapping her towel and bathrobe around her. It was her sixteenth birthday, the day of the ball; she'd be introduced to the rest of the allies and neutral Famiglia's that her papa interacted with.
"Miss Zelmira! It's time to get dressed; you're expected in your father's office in an hour and we have yet to do hair and makeup!" her personal maid, Elena, called after knocking on the door.
"I'm coming, Elena." She replied, walking from the bathroom and into the private sitting room of her suite. Elena had her sit down so her hair could be done before guiding her into the walk in wardrobe which also contained her vanity and left her to apply her makeup and put her undergarments on.
"Are you ready to put on your dress, miss?" Elena asked, knocking on the door and opening it.
"Oh! Yes; your help is much appreciated Elena. I have no idea how I'd manage to get this monstrosity on without you." Zelmira joked. In truth, her gown was gorgeous. Pale blue with a white Victorian pattern on both the skirt and bodice and trimmed in a periwinkle blue, long sleeves that started at the shoulder and decorated with the same pattern, and a ruffle over the main skirt in the same periwinkle that the dress was trimmed in; and of course, because the dress had a full skirt, there were a lot of under layers she had to deal with which was why she needed Elena's assistance in the first place. Once dressed, she made her way to her father's office.
"Ah, Zelmira; you look lovely mia figlia!" Luciano exclaimed as she walked through the open door. Zelmira graced her father with a beatific smile as she took a seat on the chaise lounge off to the side of his desk.
"Thank you, papa; you look nice too." She replied. His tux was black and accented with emerald green cufflinks, waistcoat and bowtie; it'd been one of her mother's favourite colours on him and suited his wavy blond hair, brown eyes and pale complexion well.
"Well, I suppose we should head down to mingle with the first of our guests; it'd be rude to keep them waiting."
"Of course, papa."
"Well, you're looking lovely tonight mio cara." Came a deep, oily voice to her left as she stood in front of the drinks table despite there being a few waiters walking around with trays of drinks and finger foods. Zelmira turned to find Don Giordano standing at her elbow, a glass of merlot in hand as he leered at her.
"Thank you, Don Giordano. I appreciate the compliment but if you'd excuse me, I need to return to my father's side; he has yet to finish introducing me to the other Dons and their families." She replied softly, slightly repulsed by his presence. He was one man that she'd like to avoid at all costs given his reputation for violence and warmongering.
"Ah, but surely you could spare a few moments to converse with me?" he asked, eying her chest as he moved to stand closer, a hand reaching to grip her elbow and guide her to a more secluded corner.
"Perhaps I could but only for a few moments; I would be remiss in my duties as a good hostess otherwise and I do really have to return to my father's side shortly. I told him I'd be but a few moments." Zelmira agreed reluctantly.
"Of course, mio cara, I completely understand."
"If you don't mind, please refer to me as Miss Pasolini. Now what was it you'd like to discuss with me, Don Giordano?"
"Oh, just our potential upcoming marriage." He spoke quietly, his free hand moving from her elbow to the bared skin above the neckline of her dress. She jerked back quickly and forced herself to remain calm.
"I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about. My father has mentioned no such thing and I am very aware that such an arrangement would benefit your Famiglia more than it would mine." She replied stiffly.
"Yes, well; even heirs and heiresses aren't privy to everything their Don's decide. I had a very informative discussion with your father earlier and he agreed that there was some benefit in our marital union." He replied with a smug smile.
"Perhaps, however you forget that as my father's only child; he tells me a lot more than most other Don's would tell their heirs. Now if you would excuse me, I must return to my father; and rest assured, I shall be discussing this with him at a later date, Don Giordano." Zelmira replied coolly, moving away from the man but before she could get too far, he gripped her elbow tightly and whispered,
"I shall have you as my bride and your Famiglia's territory eventually, mio cara. You can be sure of that." Tugging her arm from his grip, she resisted the urge to shiver at his 'promise' and made her way towards the centre of the room where couples were talking and dancing.
"Excuse me, Miss Pasolini." Came a new baritone voice; startling her from her thoughts. Turning, she caught sight of a man who appeared to be about eight to ten years older than her.
"Yes? I'm afraid I have yet to be introduced to everybody, so I don't know your name."
"Oh, of course. I'm Aldo Cavallone, older brother to Dino Cavallone and heir to Don Cavallone; pleasure to meet you, Miss Pasolini."
"Pleasure to meet you too, Mr Cavallone; I'm Zelmira Pasolini but please, call me Zelmira." She replied with a smile, lifting her hand to shake his only to be briefly surprised when he placed a kiss on her knuckles.
"You may address me as Aldo then, since you've given me the privilege of using your name; and may I ask if you'd allow me this next dance?" He said, indicating towards the orchestra up on the mezzanine floor that was playing the beginning strains of the next song.
"Of course; I would be delighted, Aldo." Accepting his hand and allowing him to guide her onto the dance floor proper, she smiled and gave a little wave at her father who she could see talking to a couple of other Dons.
"So, mia figlia, did you enjoy the ball?" Luciano asked his daughter as they reclined on the chaise lounge in his office, the door closed and hot chocolates in their hands; Zelmira tucked into his side and under a light blanket.
"Yes, papa. It was a lot of fun. I enjoyed dancing with Aldo Cavallone, he's a really good dancer and an even better conversationalist." She replied, taking a sip of her hot drink.
"I'm glad you enjoyed yourself."
"Papa?"
"Hm?"
"Don Giordano spoke to me briefly earlier this evening when I was getting something non-alcoholic to drink."
"Oh? What did he have to say?" he frowned.
"He said you'd talked about my possibly marrying him for the benefit of our Famiglia's."
"Over my dead body, will he ever have your hand in marriage." He growled darkly.
"Papa, please don't say that. We're part of the Mafia and it could happen far more quickly than either of us would like." She replied, worry coating her voice.
"What else did he say?"
"H-he said he'd have me for his b-bride and our territory e-eventually. Papa, I'm scared as to what that m-might mean. He's o-one of the f-few that knew of m-my existence before t-the ball tonight." She whispered.
"Don't worry mia figlia. We'll be fine." He replied, taking her drink and setting it on the coffee table next to him and wrapping his daughter in a hug, comforting her.
"I trust you, papa."
A/N: Hope you enjoyed the first chapter. I'm now working on the second…and still have to fix the timeline a bit so you'll have to bear with me on that. Translations are below and don't forget to REVIEW!
Translations (Italian):
Mia figlia: My daughter
Mio cara: My dear
Ho quindici anni: I'm fifteen