Putin’s ‘Secret Daughter’ Cornered in Paris

A serious-looking man in a suit at a press conference with a blue background

As Russian bombs keep falling on Ukraine, the woman many outlets call Vladimir Putin’s “secret daughter” is living and working in Paris—and now her on‑camera apology is raising hard questions about elite privilege, Western hypocrisy, and what accountability really looks like in wartime.

Story Snapshot

A Ukrainian journalist whose brother died in a Russian strike confronted Putin’s alleged “secret daughter” on a Paris street
The 22‑year‑old, Luiza Rozova, said she was “really sorry” for the war but insisted she was “not responsible” and had no power
The encounter spotlights Russian elite families enjoying Western lifestyles while others pay the price for Kremlin aggression
The case fuels new calls for tougher scrutiny of oligarch money, visas, and family networks across Europe

Paris Street Confrontation Puts a Human Face on Putin’s War

On a recent day in Paris, Ukrainian journalist Dmytro Sviatnenko stopped his camera on a young woman many media outlets describe as Vladimir Putin’s “secret daughter,” 22‑year‑old Luiza Rozova, also known as Elizaveta Krivonogikh. His brother, Volodymyr, a Ukrainian drone pilot, had been killed just weeks earlier in a Russian airstrike. On video, he tells her plainly that her alleged father “killed my brother” and demands she say whether she supports the Kremlin’s war.

Rozova, wearing a mask and clearly uncomfortable with being filmed, responds that she is “really sorry that this is happening” but insists she is “not responsible for this situation.” When pressed to call Putin and ask him to stop shelling Kyiv, she initially says “well, of course” in principle, then quickly retreats, saying she cannot help and has no power. For Ukrainians and many in the West, that exchange captured both sorrow and the shrug of elite distance.

From Cleaner’s Daughter to Alleged Child of a Dictator

Long before this confrontation, investigative journalists in Russia had raised red flags about Rozova’s background. In 2020, the outlet Proekt reported that her mother, former cleaner Svetlana Krivonogikh, had become a multimillionaire with stakes in companies close to Putin’s circle, while her daughter bore the patronymic “Vladimirovna,” meaning “daughter of Vladimir,” and an uncanny physical resemblance to the Russian leader. The Kremlin dismissed the reporting as unfounded, and Putin has never publicly acknowledged Luiza as his child.

Before the full‑scale invasion of Ukraine in 2022, Rozova cultivated a glossy social‑media persona, posting luxury brands, travel, and a fashionable lifestyle to Instagram under variations of the name Luiza. After Russian forces rolled across the border and images of destroyed Ukrainian neighborhoods went global, angry commenters flooded her pages, calling her the “daughter of that devil” and linking her comfortable life to Putin’s decisions. Within months, her public Instagram presence disappeared as she reportedly retreated from the spotlight.

Western Safe Havens for Kremlin Elites’ Children

According to multiple reports, Rozova later surfaced in France, studying art and working in a Paris gallery that focuses on anti‑war pieces, while also DJing under several names. The setting matters: as Kyiv endures blackouts and air‑raid sirens, one alleged member of Putin’s extended family walks freely through one of Europe’s most expensive cities, building a career in culture. For many viewers of the confrontation video, that contrast symbolized a wider pattern that Americans will find familiar from years of Russia coverage.

For over a decade, investigations have documented how children of Russian officials and oligarchs attend Western universities, buy luxury property, and build comfortable lives abroad even as their parents denounce the West and bankroll aggression. After the 2022 invasion, the United States and European Union sanctioned Putin’s two officially acknowledged daughters, Maria Vorontsova and Katerina Tikhonova, citing how they benefited from his regime. Yet figures like Rozova, whose ties are alleged rather than admitted, often remain in a gray zone—socially exposed, but not necessarily touched by serious legal measures.

Grief, Guilt, and the Limits of Personal Responsibility

For Sviatnenko, the Ukrainian journalist, the issue was not legal technicalities but moral clarity. Filming his encounter, he reminded Rozova that Kyiv was under air‑raid alert and without power even as they spoke, then asked whether she supported Putin’s policies or could do anything to stop them. Her answer was to emphasize powerlessness: she could not travel to Ukraine, could not influence policy, and was not responsible. She expressed sorrow but drew a firm line between herself and the decisions made in the Kremlin.

Many conservatives watching similar dynamics closer to home will recognize the pattern: global elites enjoying immunity while ordinary soldiers, families, and taxpayers pay the price. In this story, the grieving brother faces a symbol, not the decision‑maker. Yet symbolism matters. When a woman widely described as Putin’s daughter lives freely in Paris, expresses carefully limited regret, and continues her life largely untouched, it reinforces a perception that there is one set of consequences for the powerful and another for everyone else.

What This Means for Sanctions, Sovereignty, and Western Policy

The fallout from this Paris moment extends far beyond one awkward sidewalk video. For Western governments that say they stand with Ukraine, the case raises hard questions: How serious is the effort to track and limit the wealth and mobility of those closest to hostile regimes? Are Europe’s capitals committed to shutting down safe havens for the families of authoritarian leaders, or only to issuing statements while the money keeps flowing into real estate, art, and education sectors?

Putin’s ‘Secret Daughter,’ 22, Confronted on His War With Ukraine https://t.co/QY5NkOHG4d

— Raffaele La Ciura (@LaCiuraRaffaele) December 5, 2025

For American readers already wary of globalism, porous borders, and double standards, the lesson is clear. When leaders like Putin wage aggressive war, they often shield their own families from the fallout, exporting wealth and children to Western cities even as they attack Western interests and values. Holding those networks to account—through targeted sanctions, visa scrutiny, and serious financial enforcement—is entirely consistent with a foreign policy rooted in national sovereignty, rule of law, and respect for the victims of war rather than its architects.