When I was 17 years old, then a nerdy high school student in Moscow, I created what the Russian government has been desperately trying to engineer — a start-up with some of that Silicon Valley–style magic. It was innovative, tech savvy, ahead of its’ time, cleverly marketed and could be run out of my parents’ apartment, to minimize costs. By the time I graduated from one of Moscow’s elite universities, the company was on its way to making me a millionaire. Being on the right track, you’d expect me to not want anything to change, right? Wrong. The company was also getting big enough to get the wrong kind of attention from officials. So I took no chances.