Dimitri
Being a Stavros means never having to wonder what it's like to struggle. From the moment I was born, the world was laid out before me—golden, full of opportunity, power, and control. But that didn't mean it was easy. When you're born into a family like mine, the stakes are always high, and failure is not an option.
My father, Marinos Stavros, built our empire with the same ruthlessness he taught me. The Stavros Conglomerate doesn't just run Greece—it extends far beyond our borders, to the U.S., Germany, Canada, and more. We are a multinational giant, operating in industries most people don't even know exist. My siblings and I were raised knowing we had an empire to protect, and I, as the firstborn, had the most responsibility on my shoulders.
I never asked for it, but I didn't run from it either.
I was raised in luxury, sure, but I wasn't coddled. My father saw to that. From the time I could walk, I was trained to lead, to control, to dominate. Power wasn't just a privilege for us—it was a birthright, and I was expected to wield it with precision. I've always understood that the stakes are higher for us, the consequences more severe. One wrong move, and we could lose everything.
But I don't make wrong moves.
Now, at thirty, I run our operations in the U.S. I've built a life for myself here, one of luxury and influence. People in my world know my name, they know what I'm capable of, and they respect me for it. I've never been interested in playing games with the press, or pretending to be something I'm not for the sake of public opinion. The Stavros family moves in the shadows, controlling things from behind the scenes, and that's how we like it. Power without visibility—that's real control.
My brothers, Alexandros and Pavlos, run things back in Greece, and our sister Sophia—well, she's still young, but she'll find her place in the family soon enough. We're a unit, the four of us, even if we don't always see eye to eye.
But me? I'm the one who carries the legacy, the weight of t
he family name.