The Year the Star Fell
Introduction~~~
𝑺𝒐𝒐𝒐 𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒐 𝒊𝒕 𝒉𝒂𝒔 𝒃𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒂 𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆
Motto:"We don’t lose. We reload
Fortune:Oil, politics, and the occasional assassination (allegedly).
Home Turf: A Moscow penthouse with bulletproof windows.
The "Tsar of Cold Calls." Made his fortune privatizing Soviet oil fields. *Secretly fears his daughter has his mother’s suicidal eyes.*
A Bolshoi prima donna turned ice-cold matriarch. *Keeps Lila’s childhood antidepressants in her jewelry safe.*
The "Caged Songbird." Speaks four languages, plays Chopin, and *secretly writes poetry about burning down the family estate.*
The "Spare Heir." Buys black-market birth control and *slid Ethan Marcel’s number under Lila’s door.*
𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒗𝒂𝒔𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒆𝒗 𝒄𝒖𝒓𝒔𝒆- Every generation, one woman dies by suicide. *(Lila’s grandmother jumped from this very balcony.)*
Motto:"Money can’t buy happiness, but it can buy bail."
Fortune: Tech bros with a side of embezzlement.
Home Turf: A glass-walled Nice villa (perfect for nervous breakdowns).
The "Silicon Widow." Wears widow’s black *purely for aesthetic.* Paid off Ethan’s therapist to say Lila was "triggering."
The "Prodigal Disaster." Juilliard dropout, alcoholic pianist, *and the only Marcel who blushes when he says "I love you"
The "Backup Son." Harvard MBA, vegan, *and the reason Ethan keeps a knife in his piano bench.
The "Fallen Patriarch." Jumped from the office balcony during a board meeting.
Last words: "Sell my shares before the—"
𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑴𝒂𝒓𝒄𝒍𝒆 𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒆:Every heir dies or self-destructs by 25. (Ethan has 11 months left.)
Introduction is finished for now
PROLOGUE~
𝘕𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘭. 𝘕𝘰, 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘬𝘺—𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘢 𝘣𝘢𝘭𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘺.
Somewhere between a kiss and a catastrophe,
she let go of something... maybe herself.
𝑳𝒊𝒍𝒂 𝒗𝒂𝒔𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒆𝒗 (𝑭𝒍)
They say I fell.
Like it was gravity.
Like no one pushed.
Like it wasn’t a goddamn ritual by now.
Every Vasiliev woman dies differently.
Lila’s grandmother jumped.
Her mother drinks silence like water.
Lila?
She writes poetry about burning the house down.
3:03 AM.
Same balcony. Same red dress.
Different ghost.
𝑳𝒊𝒍𝒂 𝒗𝒂𝒔𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒆𝒗 (𝑭𝒍)
I don’t smoke.
But I light one anyway.
It’s his brand.
Of course it is.
𝑬𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏 𝑴𝒂𝒓𝒄𝒆𝒍 (𝑴𝒍)
I still smell smoke when I sleep.
Still check my piano bench for letters she never sent.
Still hear her voice in Chopin.
𝑬𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏 𝑴𝒂𝒓𝒄𝒆𝒍 (𝑴𝒍)
You don't forget the girl who watched you like you were the reason stars collapse.
𝑳𝒊𝒍𝒂 𝒗𝒂𝒔𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒆𝒗 (𝑭𝒍)
He said please.
So I didn’t jump.
But I should’ve.
This story doesn’t start with a boy meeting a girl.
It starts with a girl who knew better—
and a boy who didn’t.
It starts with music,
and ends with a war.
“How to ruin a perfect love story in three generations.”
𝑺𝒉𝒊𝒚𝒂
𝑺𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒕𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒅𝒊𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒈𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒆, 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒔𝒆 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒆.
𝑯𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒕𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒔𝒂𝒇𝒆𝒍𝒚, 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒂𝒕 𝒃𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒇𝒍𝒂𝒎𝒆.
𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒎𝒆𝒕 𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒊𝒄, 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒏𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒒𝒖𝒊𝒆𝒕.
𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝒘𝒂𝒓 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒂𝒍𝒘𝒂𝒚𝒔 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒍.
Chapter -1
“𝘖𝘯𝘦 𝘚𝘵𝘢𝘳, 𝘖𝘯𝘦 𝘗𝘪𝘢𝘯𝘰, 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘛𝘰𝘰 𝘔𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘞𝘩𝘪𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨”
The Vasiliev Winter Gala smelled like fake roses, wet marble, and secrets.
Every chandelier screamed “power,”
Every smile whispered “politics,”
And in the middle of it, Lila stood like the only person who knew none of this was real.
Red silk. Bare shoulders. Silver heels she didn’t pick.
She wasn’t here to be admired.
She was here to be paraded.
In a far corner, behind a glass of untouched wine, Ethan Marcel watched her.
No one noticed he was watching.
No one ever did—until it was too late.
Lila turned.
Locked eyes with the boy who didn’t belong.
Hair messy. wearing formals .The pianist who refused to smile.
She recognized that kind of rebellion.
𝑳𝒊𝒍𝒂 𝒗𝒂𝒔𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒆𝒗 (𝑭𝒍) (19)
“Look at him. Like the room bores him, like we bore him.
So why’s he staring at me like I’m the only thing alive here?” *mumbling in low voice*
He didn’t ask.
He didn’t wait.
He just walked to the bench like it owed him something
His fingers hit the first notes like a threat
Chopin.
But dragged through smoke
and grief
Isabelle Marcel sipped champagne without blinking
𝑳𝒊𝒍𝒂 𝒗𝒂𝒔𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒆𝒗 (𝑭𝒍) (19)
*voice low, bitter-sweet*
“God. He’s playing like something’s trying to escape him.”
Ethan never looked at the keys.
Only at her
𝑬𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏 𝑴𝒂𝒓𝒄𝒆𝒍 (𝑴𝒍) (21)
“If she looks away first, I’ll stop.
If she doesn’t…
then I know she hears it too.” 💭
But Lila didn’t look away.
She tilted her head.
She smiled—but not kindly.
𝑳𝒊𝒍𝒂 𝒗𝒂𝒔𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒆𝒗 (𝑭𝒍) (19)
“What, are you trying to impress me or warn me?”
He didn’t answer.
He just shifted the key—minor, sharper, cruel.
When the piece ended, silence followed.
Real silence.
The kind that hurts.
She set her glass down. Walked toward him.
He stood, finally speaking.
𝑬𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏 𝑴𝒂𝒓𝒄𝒆𝒍 (𝑴𝒍) (21)
“So… did I bore you yet?”
𝑳𝒊𝒍𝒂 𝒗𝒂𝒔𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒆𝒗 (𝑭𝒍) (19)
*softly*“No.
You made it worse.”
𝑳𝒊𝒍𝒂 𝒗𝒂𝒔𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒆𝒗 (𝑭𝒍) (19)
“I liked pretending I was numb.”
He didn’t smile.
But something in his eyes softened.
𝑬𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏 𝑴𝒂𝒓𝒄𝒆𝒍 (𝑴𝒍) (21)
“Then I guess I’m sorry for making you feel again.”
𝑳𝒊𝒍𝒂 𝒗𝒂𝒔𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒆𝒗 (𝑭𝒍) (19)
“Don’t be.
If I’m going to drown, I’d rather know who pushed me.”
And just like that—
the first war line was drawn.
Not with blood.
With music.
And eyes.
𝑺𝒉𝒊𝒚𝒂
𝒔𝒂𝒘 𝒕𝒘𝒐 𝒇𝒍𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒅𝒊𝒅𝒏’𝒕 𝒃𝒆𝒈 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒖𝒓𝒏,
𝑩𝒖𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒕𝒐𝒖𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒅 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒉 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒐𝒏.
𝑯𝒆 𝒑𝒍𝒂𝒚𝒆𝒅 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒐𝒏 𝒂 𝒑𝒊𝒂𝒏𝒐’𝒔 𝒈𝒓𝒊𝒏,
𝑨𝒏𝒅 𝒔𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒆𝒅 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒓 𝒉𝒂𝒅 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒃𝒆𝒈𝒖𝒏.
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