Everything about Yuri seemed like from a dream. The hesitant kisses. The shine of his hair. The shape of his eyebrows and the glittering tourmaline of his eyes. It was like Otabek was only imagining things, because so much beauty couldn't possibly be real. And it was not only the appearance, the mere sight. Every touch was so soft it felt unreal. Every movement of Yuri's gentle fingers and every blink with those lashes as golden as thick, dark honey. There was no way he was real. There was no way he was here with him. But every time Yuri looked at him and every time he leaned closer and every time Otabek felt those silky lips on his own he startled awake only to find the dream was indeed reality.

They skated in the twilight, side by side. Sometimes Yuri would stop and lean in to kiss him and sometimes Otabek would pull him closer to do the same. The blades sang on the ice, this calm song that had accompanied Otabek's life from that moment on he had first seen Yuri.

"I was 10", Yuri whispered, looking up at Otabek who had his arms around the lean frame of the blonde. "You fell in love with a child."

"I never saw you as a child", Otabek replied. "I saw you as you were, fierce and sharp, burning blue. And before I realized that I loved you I wanted to be close to you, as close as I could."

"Burning blue…" Yuri smiled. "You could have burned your fingers."

"I did. And the pain reminded me what it's like to feel alive."

It was true. All his life he had been told to behave. But in order to do so he had needed to suppress his emotions. He had lived the life his mother had wanted for him. At the same time it hadn't been what he had thought 'living' meant for him. He had run and functioned, obeyed and pretended to be happy when it wasn't the life he wanted. Because they had taken his childhood and made him into a stoic, awkward little thing that never laughed and never cried and that could only feel disappointment. He had felt that constantly - nothing he had achieved seemed to satisfy, not his mother, not his coach, not himself. His ballet had been bad, his skating had been bad and on top of that his character had been weird at best. He had felt dead inside and he had looked dead outside. Only when he had met Yuri Plisetsky he had realized that it could be different and everything had changed. He had returned. His dreams had. His desires had. And look where it had brought him.

"You're the person who made me who I am today", Otabek whispered, a blush glowing on Yuri's skin. "And there's no way I could make you understand how thankful I am."

Without a word Yuri pressed his mouth on Otabek's, his fingers tugging on his jacket.

н

Seeing Yuri leave wasn't as painful after what he had learned in this night.

When it was time he brought him back to his apartment, walked him to his car and kissed him goodbye.

"I'll find a way", Yuri prognosticated, looking small and fragile in the dark seat of the Audi, "we'll be together soon. I'll find a way."

"Please be careful."

Yuri nodded, then frowned. "Otabek. Just one more thing." His eyes wandered over the steering wheel, then with an insecure smirk he looked back up to Otabek who had his hand on the door to close it. "Earlier, when you said it was your first kiss… It wasn't." He watched confusion spread on Otabek's expression and shrugged. "When I came to Almaty to see you in the hospital the last time… Well, there's a reason your mother hates me I guess. I just was so devastated, I would have done anything to make you wake up and after nothing else had worked…" He chuckled nervously. "I… I just thought that if there has ever been something like… like magic in the world… then you deserved it. And if there was a way to make you wake up, to break- to break the spell… This sounds so stupid, but I thought I would regret it if I didn't at least try. And if there was anyone who could give you a true love's kiss… then it would be me." He smiled, squirming under Otabek's stare. "So I tried." And with a sigh he added: "Your parents caught me. Apparently your mother didn't like to witness that…" He laughed lowly, biting his lip.

"She didn't tell me." Otabek sighed, then squatted down next to the car and took Yuri's hands. "She didn't even tell me you came to see me. Nor did my father. I'm sorry you had to go through that. I'm sorry I wasn't aware."

"It's okay", Yuri replied. "I just wanted you to know about it. And that it was my first kiss too." He smiled. "It's a little embarrassing I guess. But I'm glad I did it back then."

Otabek nodded. "Me too. Thank you." He kissed the back of Yuri's hand, then stood. "Promise you'll be careful."

"I promise."

Watching the R8 disappear in the dark of the night didn't hurt as much as he had expected. Not as much as seeing Yuri leave had hurt before.

He went back upstairs, sitting down on his mattress and took his notebook. He could fill a lot of pages now.

е

I talked to aljosha. you need to get to the office as soon as possible. I'll wait for you there. dress nicely.

It was by far the weirdest text Boris had ever sent him. Otabek had woken up from the sound of his phone and he was wide awake when he had read him.

I will be there in 30 minutes, he messaged Boris while wriggling out of the jerseys he'd slept in. Whatever it was that Aljosha and Boris needed to meet him for it didn't sound as if there was a second to waste.

Only fifteen minutes later Otabek was showered, dressed in a three piece suit in all black with the Grach strapped close to his ribs and on the bike to head over to Aljosha's workplace. He was glad that it was so close to his apartment and it took him only six minutes in this friday's morning traffic to arrive at the car park under the building.

Boris half-sat on the hood of his rusty Lada and waved at him nonchalantly.

"Erasyl, nice you could make it so quickly!", he said, cheerful as ever. He didn't look as upset as Otabek had expected after the text he had received but he decided it was a good sign that Boris seemed in a good mood.

"Your text sounded like the place was on fire and I didn't want to miss all the action", he said, forcing a smile that must come out a little awkward telling from Boris' grin.

"Relax, my brother, no need to worry. You know Aljosha, he's always acting like he's the only busy person in the world. How about he go upstairs and see what he's got for you?"

The wording made Otabek frown, but he nodded. For you sounded suspicious in a way that Otabek wasn't sure he liked. Especially not after he had had some kind of rendezvous with the vor's lover just a few hours ago. For sure they hadn't been seen by anyone. His place was hidden and no one would have accidentally come across Yuri's R8 behind the Turkish company that had been closed that late. They had taken the back entrance to the rink, hidden between the trees surrounding the building in a little park like arrangement. There had been no cameras in the rink, not that it was very likely that they could have recorded anything with how dark it had been there with only the lamp in the lobby on. And even on the way back Otabek had made sure that they didn't draw too much attention. Then their goodbye under the metal stairs that led to his place. If someone had been there Otabek had noticed. There was no way someone had seen them. Despite, if there had anyone been looking for Yuri they had suspected him to be at Zhenya's place and even if he had not been found there they would have called him on his cellphone. It was so extremely unlikely that anyone knew that they had met, but still Otabek felt anxious.

Boris led him inside, then to the elevator. Otabek watched how he didn't press the button for Aljosha's office but the one that read Orlov Kompaniya. It increased his unease, but he forced himself to remain calm. The gun sat right next to his chest and in the worst case he could at least try to make it out of there. He didn't know how the inside of Orlov's headquarter looked; he had only been up there once, back when they had dropped Jessenin off and even then he had not seen more than the entrance area. There had not been guards up there, but that didn't mean that this was the rule. If they had found out about him he could as well expect a dozen AK-47s at the ready and aiming at him up there. No chance for him to make it with only his Grach. When it came to the worst he would have to negotiate. The thought that he wasn't sure if Orlov was willing to negotiate when Otabek had kissed his kitten just the night before - or rather the suspicion that he was absolutely in no mood to negotiate with his kitten's lover if he really had found out about them - made his throat go dry. He'd have to rush to extremes to make Orlov give him a chance. And that didn't even include the possibility what he might do to Yuri - of might have done already…

His thoughts got interrupted when the elevator stopped at Aljosha's office, the doors sliding open to reveal the key keeper.

"Morning Aljosha!", Boris greeted cheerfully, but the other man grimaced.

"Can't you follow Erasyl's example", he grumbled and entered the elevator, "and keep your mouth shut at least that early in the morning? It's people like you, you know, people who are happy and noisy at half past eight that get shot in the face by people like me…"

"Wow", Boris grinned, "your mood is worse than usually!"

The doors slid shut again and the elevator started moving when Aljosha explained: "I've had a lot of trouble with the fire that broke out in Sergej's place. One of the neighbors had called the police and they were not so pleased about the paperwork that was the result." He huffed in annoyance. "Police tips are getting a little too expensive lately if you ask me…"

Boris shrugged. "Those guys just want to feed their families, you know…"

"Sure", Aljosha countered. "But if they want to feed their families why do they decide to become cops? It doesn't make sense, really…"

The elevator stopped and the doors opened once again. Otabek, who had silently listened to the conversation let the other two men get off first, following them wordlessly. The lobby looked exactly like it had the first time, no guards, no Kalashnikovas.

Aljosha nodded in greeting at the woman at the reception desk who got up and headed over to the ebony door in the back of the room. She knocked carefully at the wood that was decorated with the thin lined ornament of the Orlov crest in what appeared to be beaten gold. There was a voice coming from inside and she opened the door a little, sticking her head inside. "Aljosha's here", her voice could be heard and then a "Please, have them enter." Without a doubt Orlov's voice.

Otabek's heart rate sped up.

The woman turned to them with a smile and gestured towards the door. "I'll bring tea in a second", she said with fine lines crinkling the skin around her eyes and mouth when the three men passed by.

"That would be very nice", Boris said and followed Aljosha inside, Otabek right behind him.

The room they entered was furnished with dark wooden pieces, light beige silk wall covering and a dark green carpet that made the entire room look so classy and elegant it appeared to be a movie set more than an actual parlor. The ceiling was high, four meters at least, a crystal chandelier hanging from a massive chain. There was a living room suite, an assembly of heavy seats and sofas with velvet covers the same deep green as the carpet surrounding a coffee table that sparkled from crystal. In the back of the room Otabek spotted a chimney, a massive frame made of marble in white and brown that was so light it looked like there were threads of gold embroidered in the stone.

What really caught his eye though was the stretcher frame above it. It was like his eyes got drawn to the photography on the canvas, the colors so pale it almost looked monochrome if it wasn't for the light gold of the hair and the bright green of Katyusha's eyes. Otabek only allowed himself a moment to stare at the porcelain skin only covered by translucent black thigh-highs and an unadorned black garter belt, plain black panties and glossy black Louboutin heels. The earrings glittered but not nearly as much as the green eyes, framed by the thick golden lashes. The photography was so artistically erotic, so tasteful that Otabek's insides burned with longing.

Frowning he looked away.

"What a nice proof of conscientiousness that early in the morning", Orlov said with a laugh. He stood by a dark wooden sideboard on the left opening a small golden cigarette case. He took a small brown cigar the size of a cigarette out of it, then closed the case carefully before turning towards his guests. "I see you brought company", he added when spotting the three of them. "Please. Make yourself comfortable, Miss Lysenkova will be here with tea in a second." He gestured to the luxurious seats and excused himself. "I'll be right back." He disappeared through the door in the far back, leaving the three of them behind.

They sat down and Otabek caught himself looking over to the photography again.

"Pretty little thing, isn't he?", Boris said and nudged his elbow.

Otabek frowned. "I almost didn't recognize him. He looks like a girl."

"That's the hair", Boris said with a laugh and took a cigarette out of his pocket, earning a scowl from Aljosha on the seat left to the sofa they had sat down on. He put the cigarette back as if nothing had happened. "You should see him when little Elen is through with him, he looks like a princess with all the braids and bows and little bric-a-bracs the girl decorates him with."

"That's Orlov's daughter?"

"Ah, you haven't met them", Boris exclaimed. "It's about time, those girls are little angels, both of them. No similarity to the triplets!" He barked out a laugh and even Aljosha grinned.

"They are really good as gold", the other man agreed.

Otabek was about to object that only Dianka seemed to be a little cheeky but that Marisya and especially Cilka were really nice at least when he was around, but the door opened and Orlov was back. Tagging behind him was a very drowsy Yuri, all with leopard print leggings and a hoodie that was at least two sizes too big, the hem hanging mid-thigh and the collar so wide it hung from his one bony shoulder. His hair was in a messy bun at the back of his neck, thick golden strands escaping the hair elastic and framing his soft face. He looked nothing like the person in the photography. If anything he was a million times more beautiful.

Green eyes fell on Aljosha, then on Boris and at last on Otabek, but either Yuri had expected him to be here or he was really good at acting annoyed upon taking sight of him. "You said Aljosha is here", he complained in a low voice. "What are they doing here?"

Orlov chuckled and maneuvered the boy to the sofa on the opposite side of the table. "Be nice, kitten", he murmured and sat down, Yuri falling on the padding next to him. He shot Otabek a glance and pulled his feet up on the sofa, snuggling up against Orlov. The vor wrapped his arm around Yuri and placed his hand on Yuri's hip. In any other context the sight would have been extremely upsetting for Otabek, but with this short look that Yuri had given him he felt that Yuri knew exactly what he was expected to do. There was no way he could avoid it and with that glance he apologized to Otabek, at the same time asking him to not misinterpret the affinity to Orlov. Otabek leaned back against the sofa a little to show Yuri that he was willing to play along. He didn't know why he was here or why Yuri was here, but he had expected a situation like this to take place sooner or later and he focused to maintain his calm façade. That didn't mean that the sight of Yuri so lovingly pulled against Orlov wasn't unpleasant. He just couldn't do anything about it. It was no use getting angry.

"So", Orlov said, his cigarette sitting in the pocket of his grey dress shirt forgotten. "You said there was a fire in Sergej's house?"

"Unfortunately yes", Aljosha said. "I was called by the police. It seems the wiring in the house was very old and a short circuit caused a cable fire."

"It's a pity, but that's what happens to those old houses. The electrical installations were made in a hurry and there was not much time to be very thorough."

Boris next to Otabek nodded. "You hear that a lot."

"But I heard that the two of you", he looked to Boris and Otabek, "happened to be in the house shortly before the… accident happened."

"That's true", Boris said. "We wanted to see if Sergej was well. You know, he didn't answer his phone lately."

"Yes, he wasn't available for days. Instead you guys took his responsibilities." Miss Lysenkova entered the room with a tea tray and put it on the table with a smile, then withdrew quietly again, so Orlov continued: "I am very thankful for your service, and Katyusha here as well, aren't you, kitten?"

Yuri shrugged. "Yes, Daddy." He turned his head and pressed his forehead against Orlov's shoulder, just like a real cat would do.

"That's why you went to see Sergej?", Orlov continued, stroking Yuri's head gently.

Otabek, who sat closest to the tray, poured tea in the fragile white cups, noticing that the bottom of the china was decorated with Orlov's crest as well. he handed out the cups carefully, starting with Yuri, then Orlov and at last Aljosha and Boris, who gave him a smile, then answered Otlov's question:

"I don't like that much driving", he confessed, laughing a little. "It wasn't all altruism that brought us there."

"I see. What did you find there?"

"Well…", Boris sighed. "I'm not sure who was aware of it, but it seems that Sergej had taken a certain liking of Katyusha here. And one of that kind that doesn't seem… healthy?"

Orlov frowned. "Please specify."

"Well, he… he seemed to be a little… obsessed with him. When we came there the entire flat was covered in pictures. Like, the floor and the walls, they were everywhere."

"What kind of pictures?" It was satisfying that Orlov seemed a little alarmed now.

Boris groaned, struggling for words, so Otabek jumped in:

"The kind of pictures you don't surround yourself with if you aren't suffering from erotomania, schizophrenic obsession or a similar mental disorder", he said, slowly.

Orlov's look was like a gunshot. "That sounds almost like you know what you are talking about…"

This time it was hard to not react, but somehow he managed to not look offended. "I know what I saw in there", he replied, his voice as calm as before. "It was far beyond the point of 'taking a certain liking of Katyusha'."

"It was disgusting, really", Boris cut in, making Orlov look away from him.

Otabek felt a little relieved, but he didn't let it show. The wrath in the vor's eyes had been frightening. Only now Otabek noticed how Orlov's hand held Yuri close to him like he could protect him this way. It almost made him laugh, when he thought about how this was the same man that had let his friend Jessenin use Yuri not so long ago. And now he acted like he was so protective.

"When the only one who can protect him is you", Erasly whispered in his head. It sent shivers down Otabek's spine.

"It looked like pictures from back then", Boris explained. "From before Katyusha came here, you know. Screenshots of several… Well…" He fell silent.

Orlov nodded, taking a sip from his tea, then put the cup back down onto the saucer with a subtle click. "I knew Sergej was attached to Katyusha. I thought it was a good thing. We protect those we love."

Yuri huffed and it made Orlov look down at him.

"Do you disagree?"

Yuri wriggled around a little, then leaned his slender back against Orlov's side. "Depends."

"On what?"

"If you're an asshole who takes advantage of those you are ordered to protect once they are on coke and can't resist your groping and talking bullshit."

"Did he?", Orlov asked and Otabek held his breath.

Yuri shot his patron a glance over his shoulder. "Guess what?"

Orlov took a deep breath and sat back. "Well, the problem solved itself."

Yuri turned around to look at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Why don't you ask our guests?", Orlov said and gestured to Boris and Otabek with his tattooed left hand.

Boris had just picked up his tea cup. It hung half way between the table and his mouth. "Uhm… Well, we called Danya to take care of him."

"Danya?" Yuri tilted his head, looked to Otabek and back to Boris. "Should I know who that is?"

"He's in charge of cleaning the scenes", Orlov explained. "No one you have to remember."

At that Yuri's look became puzzled. "Cleaning the scenes?"

"Oh, you didn't know?", Boris said, took a slurp of his tea and then said: "When we came there Sergej had been dead for a few days alread-"

"What?!", Yuri sat straight, his eyes darting from Boris to Orlov. "He's dead?!"

"This is why we met here today", was the answer.

Yuri slumped back against the sofa. "What the fuck? Why didn't anyone tell me? What happened?"

"He must have choked on his own vomit", Aljosha who had been silent for a while said. "Sadly the police will not be able to find out with the place on fire."

The shock on Yuri's face made way for a tiny smirk. "Yeah, the fire. It's such a coincidence that everything burned down."

"Very tragic", Boris concluded.

"As things are now", Orlov said, "we don't have anyone who could take Sergej's place as your driver, my love."

Aljosha grinned. "Well, that's not entirely true." Everyone looked over to him and it seemed he enjoyed having baited them, taking a sip from his tea, making them all wait. "As chance would have it our dear Erasyl here proved to be very reliable…"

All eyes were on Otabek suddenly and he didn't know where to look, so he looked at Orlov who eyed him with suspicion.

"I had the pleasure to witness your probity on some occasions. You were the one who drove Katyusha to the veterinarian when the cat was ill, correct me if I'm wrong."

Otabek nodded, his palms sweaty. "That was me, Sir."

"He accompanied me while Mr Jessenin was here, too", Boris added. "He's been very helpful, really."

"And he's the only one who respects the non-smoking rule in the cars", Aljosha added lowly, making Boris laugh.

Orlov who hadn't looked away from Otabek when the other had spoken frowned. "Do you whore around?", he asked and when Otabek shook his head kept inquiring: "Do you drink? Do you take drugs?"

"No, Sir, I'm Muslim."

Orlov nodded. "I'm afraid I don't know you very well, but as you can imagine it's not an easy task to know every member of a bratva so widespread and powerful", he stated, the threat obvious. Otabek didn't even blink. "So you're not from Moscow."

Again Otabek nodded. Finally he could make use of the story Nad and her friends had constructed for him. "I just returned to Moscow a few weeks ago. I had been in the US and Canada for personal reasons for a while."

"Aren't you Korean?", Orlov asked, and again Boris laughed.

"See, I always say you are so obviously Korean! It's not only me!"

Huffing a laugh Otabek explained: "I was born in Seimei, but one of my ancestors is Korean, so maybe this is where this misunderstanding comes from. I have trained in Korea though, some time ago." That wasn't exactly a lie, like most of his new résumé wasn't: he had been in the US and Canada after all and he had trained in Korea. That it hadn't been for bratva purposes remained unsaid.

"Is that so…", Orlov said, plucking the small cigar from his shirt pocket. Boris was ready with a lighter in an instant, Orlov thanking him with a nod and taking a puff of the sweet smelling tobaccos. He leaned back and placed his left hand on Yuri's thigh. Under two massive rings the fingers were decorated with tattoos, some of them dark, some of them blurred and light blue, the ink fading away from the years. There were crosses on every finger showing that he had taken trips to the zones at the jargon called three times of imprisonment. A ring inked into the skin of the left ring finger, a broad band, was centered by a double headed eagle. The back of his hand showed a stylized lighthouse, a symbol for the demand of freedom, accompanying the five dots under the thumb, meaning "a man between four walls" and the second proof that Orlov had been imprisoned. Otabek looked over to the other hand that held the small cigar. The vor v zakone ring tattoo decorated the middle finger and there were more dots inked onto the knuckles, seven altogether that symbolized seven years of imprisonment. As for the reason for the imprisonment, the skull on the back of Orlov's right hand spoke of a conviction for murder.

His insides clenching Otabek's eyes darted to Yuri who absentmindedly played with a strand of his hair that had fallen over his shoulder like the man beside him wasn't a very dangerous criminal, then Orlov's voice made him look back at the vor.

"You hear a lot about Korea. How the drill is very… cruel. They say the training there turns eager boys into merciless beasts who don't think twice to take drastic measures when it's necessary." He took another drag from his cigar. "I guess it's not a bad idea to have someone like you care about my little kitten here. Then again I thought hiring Sergej for the job was a good idea, too. You know best how wrong I was about that." He sighed. "I wish there was a way to see how far you would go."

Otabek swallowed. "I guarantee you there's no reason to doubt my loyalty", he said, his voice dark and steady. Yuri looked up. The stare out of green eyes was sparkling with fondness.

"Are you saying that you'd do whatever it takes to keep Katyusha safe?" Orlov leaned forward, scrutinizing him like he was looking for a sign of hesitation.

"Anything, if you order me to."

With a smirk Orlov sat back again. "Now, that's interesting." He pondered for a moment, then turned to Yuri: "What do you think, Katyusha. He'll be your driver after all. Do you like him? He's handsome too, isn't he?"

"I wouldn't give a shit if he had seven eyes and gills", Yuri said with the most bratty pout and blew a stray lock from his face. "He can drive and he keeps his mouth shut, so why not. At least he'll spare me the lovey-dovey crap Sergej used to woo me with."

Orlov hummed. "Well then, Erasyl…" He said the name like to try out if he liked the sound of it. "If you are interested in taking the job, there you go."

With the tip of his tongue Otabek moistened his lips. "I feel honored by your offer, Sir. I must inquire about the remuneration, though."

At that Orlov laughed. "Of course, of course. How could I forget?" He stubbed out the cigarette in the crystal ashtray on the coffee table. "Well, I payed Sergej the same amount as Artjom. Not to offend you, but with what I know now I am not sure if such a payment is appropriate as long as I am not experienced with the quality of your services."

"Wow, seriously, Daddy?", Yuri interrupted. "You're bargaining about the guy who takes care of me? That gloomy bear over there carried me to the car after Uncle Vlad had me wear those fucking heels all night!"

"Is that true?", Orlov laughed, so Otabek nodded.

"I am worth my money."

"Alright, it's settled then!" Orlov clapped his hands and stood. "One more thing though. Would you mind accompanying me to my back office?" He looked over to Boris and Aljosha. "You two can leave, the rest is just some formalities."

"Thank you for the tea", Boris said. "See you later, Erasyl." With that they headed over to the door while Otabek followed Orlov and Yuri in the opposite direction.

When the lounge had been elegantly furnished the office was twice as luxurious. The walls were lined with dark shelves full of thick old books, making the office look like a small library. There was a massive dark desk in the center with all kind of ornaments on it: golden ink bottles and quills, a lamp with a shade that looked like it was made of mother of pearl, an asian looking dagger on a stand, a small marble statue of the Holy Mother, a crystal vase with a single white hellebore. There was a small golden picture frame but Otabek only saw the back side of it.

"In case you wondered", Orlov said as he walked to the desk, "I'm not a man of written contracts or treaties. I believe that the best relationship relies on trust, so I will not have you signed a paper or anything like that. The problem is that it's not easy to find trustworthy employees nowadays. I thought I knew Sergej well enough, and now that." He had stopped in front of the desk, picking up the dagger. When he turned around there was a smile on his face. "A friend of mine gave me this", he explained, lifting the knife up so Otabek could see it even from where he waited next to the door. Yuri who had strolled over to one of the bookshelves turned around. There was something in his eyes, like he expected something bad to happen.

"It's an exquisite piece, don't you think so as well?" Orlov seemed almost dreamy as he looked down on the shining metal, but when he looked back at Otabek there was only cold in his look. "Cut your finger off."

Yuri gasped, but Otabek wasn't even surprised. He had suspected that it had gone too smoothly until here. Orlov wasn't just some guy who wanted to hire a driver. He was one of the most powerful mafia bosses in all Russia. You needed more than a nice suit and a good sounding story to get to protect his foster-son.

No muscle in Otabek's face moved when he closed the distance. He didn't hesitate to take the dagger from Orlov's thick fingers.

His heart beat heavy in his chest as he held the dagger. It was a beautiful work, that much was true. The blade glittered in the light of the chandelier that seemed to be the same as the one in the lounge. If the blade was sharp enough it would go more smoothly, Otabek thought. He would have to try and not make a sound and then hurry and stop the bleeding, so that Yuri wouldn't be so scared. He would have to take his time though, too, in order not to appear hectic. Orlov wanted a beast and he would get one. If it was what was required to get him closer to Yuri then he wouldn't hesitate for a second.

He looked up at Orlov with stern expression. "Which one?"

"Which one do you suggest?"

"Daddy", Yuri whined from next to the bookshelf where he stood frozen like it was dangerous to come any closer. Orlov ignored him.

Otabek looked down at his left hand, holding the dagger with the right. He needed his thumb for driving. The index finger was important too, he used the handles behing the steering wheel with it and secured his gun. The middle finger was important when he stabilized the gun, same for the pinky. The ring finger only served one single purpose: Being decorated with a ring. But there would never be a ring if he wasn't even willing to sacrifice a finger to become Yuri's guardian.

"The ringfinger", he answered, looking up to Orlov again. "It's not essential for my work."

Orlov nodded. "Go ahead then."

Breathing deeply Otabek placed his left hand flat on the wooden surface of the desk. He ignored Yuri's gasp, when he pressed the blade against the skin of his proximal joint, breaking the skin to relieve a little blood already. It was probably the best idea to try it here, where he didn't have to cut through the finger bone. That would make the procedure unnecessarily long and painful. Just when he was about to press the dagger all the way down, Yuri appeared next to him and pushed his hand aside.

"Daddy, seriously!", he exclaimed angrily. "How's he supposed to take me to the performance tonight if he can't use his hand? It would be nice if you wouldn't only think about yourself all the time but a little about what I want, too!"

Orlov seemed to be a little surprised, but then smiled apologetically. "Ah, you're right, kitten, of course you are. I'm sorry, I wasn't aware of that." He leaned down and kissed Yuri's forehead, then turned to Otabek who still had his hand on the table. "Keep your fingers, son. Katyusha is right, we don't have time to waste. That kind of stuff leaves such a mess on the table too, let's leave it be. Just listen," his eyes became hard and cold again. "I'll make you cut off other bits of your body if I ever hear or see that you lay a finger on my boy, you hear me?"

Otabek stood straight, his chest tight. "That will never happen, Sir."

"Good." He smiled at Yuri. "Go and show your new friend around so he knows where to take you, will you?"

"Yes, Daddy", Yuri said and gave Orlov a smile as sweet as honey, then turned to the door.

Otabek followed him but halfway to the door Orlov called him back. "Erasyl, I wondered… Where did you get all those scars?"

Otabek turned slowly, looking at the man who had just given him Yuri without even knowing.

"A long time ago", he said, his voice deep and low, "I promised to protect someone. By doing so I almost gave my life. These scars are here to remind me of that day and of the boy I saved by sacrificing myself."

There was a gleam in Orlov's eyes. Respect. Then he let them leave.