Chapter 1: The Birthplace of Power
The sky above the Vasiliev Sovereign Island was streaked with copper and fire, the sun bowing in reverence to the rulers of the modern world. This place was no mere private island. It was a myth in political circles, a whispered legend in military halls, a ghost in economic reports. Invisible to satellites, erased from every digital map, and protected by a quantum security system designed by the top one percent of the world's AI engineers—all of whom now worked solely for one woman.
At the heart of this elusive empire stood The Citadel—a fortress carved into a mountainside and kissed by the ocean, where time, laws, and limits bent at the will of its inhabitants.
And at the center of it all?
The trio the world feared.
Adriano Alessandro Vasiliev.
The man who ruled beneath the surface.
Half Russian, half Italian—heir to two of the most dangerous bloodlines on earth. He was called many things in hushed tones: The Crimson King, The Oil God, The Devil of Rome.
With piercing green eyes and naturally red hair streaked with icy white, he stood like a sculpted weapon in a bespoke Brioni suit, always armed with a smile that promised either seduction or destruction.
Adriano controlled:
70% of the world's oil reserves.
98% of Italy's core political and underground systems.
40% of the Russian economy and military black funds.
60% of China's high-risk industrial and criminal sectors.
And 40% of the world's underworld—from elite mafias in Europe to blood cartels in South America.
He didn't sit on committees or enter politics. He bought them. Presidents picked up his calls before they answered their own emergencies.
And yet, for all his lethal precision and global influence, he bowed only to one.
Ava Seraphina Steele-Vasiliev.
The woman who sat above the world.
She was a storm wrapped in silk. A goddess in the guise of a woman. Born of German, American, British, and Canadian blood, she didn't inherit power—she built it from the bones of fallen empires.
She had no title, no elected office. And still, entire nations bled to win her favor.
Ava controlled:
60% of the world's manufacturing and service sectors.
70% of all textile and automobile exports.
50% of global iron and steel production.
60% of the world's pharmaceutical, chemical, and banking industries.
90% of transportation, telecommunications, medical, and industrial infrastructures.
80% of the world's IT dominance, including data surveillance, cloud storage, and AI research.
She owned 70% of the United States, 40% of the UK, 50% of India, 70% of Canada, and 80% of Germany in terms of business, media, and secret military partnerships.
Entire governments kneeled in fear. CEOs retired early just to avoid crossing her. And if Ava ever whispered your name in disapproval—you disappeared.
Despite their monstrous power, the world never saw chaos. Why?
Because they were in love.
Ava and Adriano met when she was twenty and he was twenty-one. The moment their eyes locked, entire timelines shifted. He fell to his knees—not literally, but emotionally, spiritually, eternally. To him, she wasn't a woman. She was divinity incarnate.
He followed no god. He followed her.
He'd once crushed a nation that dared insult her name in public. He designed new heels for her when she was six months pregnant. He carried her in his arms down staircases she could walk down herself. And when she walked into a room, even after seventeen years of marriage, he still forgot to breathe.
And in return?
Ava, for all her steel and fire, melted only for him.
She respected him as her equal. She loved him as her only man. She kissed him in front of their daughter daily, held his hand like it tethered her to something human. She was the only force in existence that could tame Adriano's madness—and he was the only soul alive who could cradle her storm.
And in that rarest of unions, they created a daughter.
Eva Celestina Vasiliev.
A girl born not into power, but as power itself.
She had her father's green eyes, her mother's flowing platinum hair. Her intelligence shattered algorithms. Her silence bent politicians. Her smile had not been seen in public since she was twelve—rumor said that even her laughter could not be bought.
Now seventeen, she was the sole heir to two empires that had never bent to anyone.
At sixteen, she'd been granted full access to their holdings. She had global military clearance, economic override codes, and diplomatic immunity in over ninety-two countries. She didn't need to turn eighteen.
The world already feared her.
In the grand hall of The Citadel, the family stood together.
Ava stood before a projected globe, its spinning surface marked with territories in red—her territories. She tapped at holograms and issued commands that would trigger a domino of economic collapses. Adriano watched from the side, arms crossed, lips smirking, like a king watching his queen burn cities in heels.
"You're spending too much time with her again," he said, voice dry.
Ava tilted her head, not looking up. "Jealous again, mio amore?"
"She already knows ten nuclear code strings. She doesn't need to be tucked in."
"She's our daughter. She needs more than codes."
"She's mine," Adriano muttered dramatically. "Now she's yours."
From the side of the room, Eva finally looked up from her reports and smirked. "Are you fighting over me again?"
Adriano pointed a finger at her. "You stole my goddess."
Ava finally turned, striding toward him. She cupped his cheek and kissed him—slow, deep, passionate.
"She was ours, amore. But now she's… more."
Adriano groaned and pretended to sulk, arms crossed. "You never kissed me like that before we had her."
"Liar," Ava whispered against his lips, kissing him again. "I kiss you more now."
Eva stood, approaching them. "You two are ridiculous."
"Powerful," Ava corrected. "Then ridiculous."
"Terrifying," Adriano added. "Then romantic."
"Unbeatable," Eva concluded. "Always."
They laughed softly. Together.
The Vasilievs did not belong to the world. They owned it. And tonight, as the sun set over oceans bought in silence and gold, the family who sat atop the world simply existed—not as rulers, but as themselves.
Unafraid. Untouched. Unchallenged.
And the world?
It could only watch from afar.