What happens when a brilliant mind chasing the next big breakthrough in AI finds himself tangled in the remnants of an empire that has long since collapsed—but refuses to let go of power?
That question sits at the heart of my latest story, Startup.
Where Silicon Valley Meets the Shadow Economy
Professor Andrija Krstic is a man of intellect, vision, and academic rigor. His passion lies in the cutting edge of semiconductor research, a world I know intimately well. But like many bright minds with big ideas and little capital, he finds himself lured into a deal that seems—on the surface—too good to pass up.
The funding comes from an Armenian oligarch with ties to the post-Soviet underworld. It’s not an uncommon story: visionaries compromising with venture capital that’s not exactly clean. But when that capital carries whispers of past crimes and present threats, the stakes rise far beyond market share or IPOs.
Krstic’s journey is a collision between two worlds—Silicon Valley’s gleaming optimism and the gray, untraceable wealth left behind by the fall of the USSR. It’s not just a story of ambition, but of moral erosion, subtle coercion, and the kind of choices that define not only companies—but people.
More Than Just Fiction
Like FA Confidential, Startup is fiction. But it’s fiction with roots in reality. I’ve seen firsthand how pressure, funding, and opportunity can distort even the best intentions. The line between “just business” and something much darker is often thinner than we’d like to admit.
Startup is about what happens when a “resident adult”—the responsible one in the room—begins to crack under the weight of compromise. It’s about technology, yes, but more so about the people behind it and the values they bring—or lose—along the way.
Why I Wrote It
Because these aren’t just hypotheticals. They’re echoes of conversations I’ve had, headlines I’ve read, and systems I’ve worked within. Startup is a story meant to entertain, but also to provoke. To ask: How much is too much to sacrifice in the pursuit of innovation?
And just as importantly: What kind of future are we really building when we choose to look the other way?