He had changed into his suit again, a white shirt this time so that people wouldn't think he wore the same outfit as this morning. He struggled scratching a little of the dark blue paint from his right index finger, but managed in the end. The fingertip was reddened once he was finished though.
He arrived at Yuri's place five minutes before 5, parked the bike in a corner and secured the helmet to the lock as well. He was just finished when the door opened and Yuri appeared out of it.
Otabek clenched his teeth so his jaw wouldn't drop when he saw Yuri. He wore a long black fur coat, black velvet heels and a dress that was not a dress but a flowing, shimmering light pink mist, a ruffled sunrise held around Yuri's slender hips by an ornament of glittering crystals. His hair was in a high bun, neat and straight with only one curly strand purposely falling over his shoulder.
He shot Otabek a glance under dark golden lashes that made his heart beat faster. It was a sharp look, but there was something in it, something tender. With a frown he hurried over there when Yuri unlocked the R8 and opened the door for him.
"You look very beautiful", he confessed, hoping that it was neutral enough to say that when he wanted nothing more than stare for hours at this most gorgeous creature that had ever lived on their planet.
With a smirk Yuri handed him the key to the Audi. "I know", then he got in the passenger seat.
Otabek closed the door carefully, then hurried to the driver's side. When he got in Yuri had leaned back, his arms crossed over his chest and his head turned to the side so his bun wouldn't be messed up by the headrest.
"Where are we going?", Otabek asked, fastening his seatbelt.
"Ballet", Yuri answered, then leaned forward to type the address into the navigation system while Otabek started the car and pulled out of the parking lot. "It's Irin's first performance, so it's quite the big deal for her and her family. And me", he added with a smile.
Otabek remembered that Irina was one of Orlov's daughters. She and her sister Elena had often been compared to Maksim's little girls, so he supposed they were around the same age. "Is she the older one?", he asked.
Yuri leaned back. "Yeah, she's six", he said over the navigation's instruction to turn left. "Elen is four."
"Does she dance, too?"
At that Yuri laughed like it was the most absurd thing he had ever heard. "She hates ballet. Anatolij and Svetlana Ivanova tried to talk her into it but she absolutely refuses to even try. She wants to be a hairdresser." He smiled affectionately. "Maybe in some years I can convince her to give it a shot. I think she just doesn't want to be compared to her sister all the time. Some time ago the nanny found her in the bathroom cutting her own hair short with her child's scissors. It was a disaster." His chuckle sounded so soft and tender it made Otabek smile.
"They are like sisters for you", he guessed and Yuri blushed a little.
"Yes, they are. I always wondered what it is like to have siblings and they are so cute and good little girls, although of course they cause chaos once in awhile. I really love them. And vice versa I think."
Otabek hummed, his eyes on the traffic.
They were silent for some minutes. Yuri seemed lost in thoughts, so Otabek didn't interrupt him. In his pocket the key to the car he had bought for Yuri felt like it was glowing, pressing into his thigh heavy and hot. He'd have to wait for the right moment to explain the matter to Yuri. From what it looked like Yuri's coat didn't even have pockets so it was impossible to give him the key now. He'd have to wait.
Only when Otabek looked over to Yuri to check for a handbag or something he noticed the small box on Yuri's lap. It was wrapped in red paper with the outlines of golden roses shimmering in the streetlights they passed by.
The blonde noticed the look and smiled again. "That's for Irin. She plays Princess Aurora but she didn't like the crown they gave her so I bought her another one. I thought it would be nice to give it to her as a surprise. I hope she'll like it."
"I'm sure she will love it."
The parking lot was relatively full when they arrived at the Pushkin Drama Theatre, quite an amount of fancy cars parked close to the back entry. Among them was a black Audi Q7, most likely one of Orlov's cars. Otabek parked next to it and went to open the door for Yuri. When he held his hand out Yuri took it with the slightest smile.
"Thank you", he said, in the same low, soft voice he always did, but it seemed to Otabek that everytime he looked down on him, Yuri's slender, fragile hand in his and his eyes shimmering like crystals, he fell in love all over again.
Yuri stood, but didn't let go of Otabek's hand. Instead he turned it to look down on the band aid around his ring finger. "You still have that on?", he asked, trying not to smile too openly. It was possible that someone watched them after all.
"Of course", Otabek answered, almost a whisper. "It cured me."
Yuri exhaled, a mixture of a laugh and a sigh, then let go of Otabek's hand. "Do you come inside? I can introduce you to the girls and Svetlana Ivanova."
"Wouldn't it be inappropriate?", Otabek objected. "I'm your driver, not someone you introduce to your family."
At the last part Yuri shot him a glance that seemed almost hurt. The impression was gone after a split second. "I suppose Artjom is here, too. Also, Sergej would not have waited in the car, it would be awkward to not have you watch the performance."
"As you wish", Otabek said, earning a frown from Yuri but he didn't say anything else and headed over to the theatre's entrance door, Otabek tagging along after he had locked the car.
It was getting dark already although it was not long after 5 pm. The heels of Yuri's shoes were loud on the pavement and the wind made the curled strand of hair and the seam of the light pink of the dress dance in the wind. As much as Otabek wanted to watch Yuri approach the brightly lit entrance of the theatre, the vision enchanting like from a dream, he didn't fail to notice a few people scattered around the door, likely parents of other girls taking part in the performance, some smoking cigarettes and cigars, some in conversation with other parents.
Otabek fought back a frown when he spotted the two men a few meters away and close to the wall where the lamps from the theatre didn't provide enough light to keep the shadows on their faces at bay. They were silent, both with cigarettes, dressed formally, one looking over to the cars, one watching Yuri and him. They were not exactly suspicious, but they didn't look like they had daughters doing ballet either. And they certainly didn't look like they were here to watch little girls perform Sleeping Beauty for fun. Otabek looked away, their faces burnt into his mind already. Maybe he was paranoid, but the two figures sent a shiver down his spine. They actually looked so unremarkable, and Otabek would bet no one would even remember they had been there after losing sight of them, but the way they tried to be invisible and blend into the chattering groups scattered around the door made them obtrusive to Otabek's perception. They were a little too ordinary, a little too quiet, a little too far away in the dark. Something was definitely going on. That or he was seeing ghosts.
He held the glass door open for Yuri, his mind still trying to make sense of the two men as he stepped into the crowded lobby when all of a sudden he heard a shriek and saw a fast motion coming their way. His heart stopped for a second and his hand twitched toward the gun sitting in the holster close to his chest when he realized it was only a little blonde girl jumping at Yuri.
"Katcha!", the girl squealed and Yuri bent down and collected the whirlwind in his arms.
"Irin!", he laughed and groaned in the girl's brutal embrace, hugging her back nevertheless. "You're choking me!"
The girl held onto Yuri for a second more, then let go of him with the brightest smile. "I'm so glad you came!", she said, then took a step back and looked Yuri up and down. "You look beautiful", Irina said, her cheeks flushed with astonishment.
The dress Yuri wore looked so similar to the girl's dress, pastel pink silk frills over a puffy tutu, it couldn't be a coincidence. And the way Yuri's hair was pinned up resembled Irina's hairstyle as well, only the one free curl missing from the girl's hairdo. Otabek had never thought there was someone with the same bright golden hair as Yuri's but he found that Irina looked a lot like she was really Yuri's little sister, only her eyes a bright blue instead of the mesmerizing green.
"You too, princess." With that Yuri held out the small box. "That's for you."
The girl took it happily. "Can I open it now?"
"You have to!", Yuri insisted with a smile and she carefully loosened the adhesive tape from the red and gold paper.
From the corner of his eyes Otabek saw someone coming their way through the lobby swarming with people and when he looked up he spotted Orlov, dressed in a dark gray suit with a light gray shirt and an elegant blonde lady in a black dress with the brightest red lipstick Otabek had ever seen that made her blue eyes stand out like sapphires. On Orlov's hand he saw another girl, smaller, with a blonde pixie haircut and a hairbow the same color as her frilly baby blue dress - Elena.
Otabek nodded at them wordlessly and Orlov returned the greeting. The lady, unmistakably the girls' mother, gave him a piercing look, then turned her attention to little Irina who had unwrapped the gift and opened the small box.
The girl's eyes shimmered as she took a small crown out of the box, light pink gems embedded in a curlicued golden framework.
"Mama, Papa, look!", she exclaimed, turning around and holding the crown out to her parents. "Katcha gave me a crown! Isn't it beautiful!"
The woman smiled and nodded. "Very beautiful, my dear."
Irina turned around to jump at Yuri again who helped her clipping the crown to her hair when she had finally let go of him again.
"Now you look like a real princess", Yuri said contently and Irina beamed him a gleeful smile before turning around to her sister, who eyed her sister's excitement sceptically.
Yuri straightened again and greeted the mother with a barely there kiss on her right hand, then Orlov with a chaste kiss on his mouth, then little Elena, petting her blonde hair.
"This is Erasyl", he said, gesturing to Otabek, "my new driver. Erasyl, this is Miss Svetlana Ivanova."
"Pleased to meet you", Otabek said, taking the offered hand and mimicking a kiss a centimeter away from the knuckle subserviently.
"I heard about Sergej Vladimirovich", she said to Yuri, paying Otabek no attention. "It must be hard for you to get used to someone new. Especially someone…", she eyed Otabek with cold blue eyes, "foreign."
Yuri didn't have the opportunity to comment on that when Elena, still clinging to her father's hand, asked: "What happened to Sergej Vladimirovich?"
"He went to a place far away from here", Yuri said softly, making the girl frown.
"Will he come back?"
"No, Elen, he will stay there."
A triumphant smirk showed on the tiny girl's face. "Good. I hate him. He stinks!"
"Elen, behave!", Irina elbowed her side, but the grin on the younger sister's face only grew bigger.
"He wasn't nice. And he had stupid hair and was loud", Elena said, then looked up to Otabek. "Are you nice?"
For a moment Otabek was perplex, then he nodded. "I'm certainly nicer than Sergej, Lady Elena, and I'm not loud. I'm not sure about my hair, though."
"It's fine", she said, let go of her father's hand and held hers out for Otabek to kiss. "Your name is strange. I shall call you Silya instead." Otabek bit back a smile and kissed her tiny hand, aware of her father's and Yuri's chuckle.
"I'll call you Silya, too", Irina said with a grin and pushed Elena's hand aside to hold hers out for Otabek to kiss as well.
Otabek did as expected, then stood straight again only to find Miss Orlova scowling at him. He pretended it didn't happen and stepped back, looking around.
"We should go get you ready", the mother said and Irina answered with a "Yes, Mama", then addressed Yuri again: "Katcha, you have to look at me all the time, okay? I will dance the best I can!"
"Sure thing", Yuri encouraged her, "I won't take my eyes of you, princess. Now go and do your magic."
Irina laughed high as a chime and pulled her mother down the hallway, her tutu bouncing like petals on a flower in a summer breeze.
Yuri sent Otabek over to the cloakroom with his coat, revealing the entirety of his pale pink dress and one naked shoulder when shrugging off the fluffy black coat. Orlov smiled at him, brushing his fingertips over Yuri's prominent collarbone. Witnessing this Otabek turned away to have the coat and his own jacket stored away. The way Orlov touched Yuri so intimately made his stomach turn. But the softness of the touch and the affection in it was impossible to ignore.
He handed the coat over to the lady at the desk and grit his teeth. He hated the way Orlov looked at Yuri and he hated it even more how he touched him. No matter how gentle and honest he was or how much everything looked like he genuinely loved Yuri it hurt to think that there was nothing Yuri could do to avoid it. He was in Orlov's hands. Maybe he didn't mind the touches, the gentle kisses, maybe he didn't even mind when Orlov used him or when he gave him away to his friends, but Otabek did mind and it hurt to think that there was no way anyone could do something about Yuri's situation. Not even Orlov's wife seemed to have a say in that matter. Otabek couldn't imagine she was happy that her husband had such a beautiful boy who took her place in the sheets. The fact that Yuri looked indeed like he belonged to the family must make it even harder for her. Svetlana Ivanova was a beautiful woman, that was for sure, her hair a luscious blonde, her skin fair and her features dainty. Otabek guessed she was in her late forties and for a woman her age she was beyond attractive. But it was like comparing a rose that started losing its petals and one that was only just blooming, morning dew glittering in the first rays of sunlight. Yuri was young. He not only combined every aspect that made her attractive, but exaggerated it: His hair wasn't blonde, it was a waterfall of liquid gold cascading down his back or crowning him like spun sunlight. His skin wasn't only fair but as smooth and flawless as porcelain, his face of angelic beauty, his movements gracious as a cat's, his eyes-
Otabek exhaled shakily. On the other end of the hall Orlov had placed a hand on Yuri's tiny waist, Elena obliviously tracing the pattern of the marble floor with her little fingers right next to them.
"He looks so much like them", Erasyl whispered in this head. "Like his wife, like his little daughters. Boris said he has him call him Daddy when they do it. Isn't that sick? He uses the boy who looks like his daughters and makes him call him Daddy."
Otabek's fists hurt from clenching as he stared over to them. Orlov said something that made Yuri laugh and lean in, placing a kiss on his lips. He looked calm but Otabek could see how tense his shoulders were, if only for a moment.
"You have to get him out of here", Erasyl pressed. "Out of this theatre, out of Moscow, out of Orlov's reach. You have to save him. You promised."
"I know", he hissed, angry but helpless. He didn't know how. He still didn't know how!
There was so much going on in his heart and his head but he pushed it back into the gaping hole in his chest as he returned to Yuri, Orlov and the girl.
Orlov led them over to the bar, getting a glass of cranberry juice for Elena and two glasses of champagne for Yuri and himself. When he turned to Otabek, he hesitated.
"You don't drink alcohol, do I remember that correctly?", he asked.
Otabek nodded. "That is correct, Sir." He was about to decline any offer but like earlier Elena cut in.
"You can have juice", she said, holding her glass with both hands. "Irin drinks orange juice, but I love cranberry juice. Tomato juice is tasty as well. But I like sour things. Do you like sour things, Silya?"
Otabek thought for a moment. "Actually I don't think I ever tried cranberry juice before", he said slowly.
Elena turned to the bartender. "One glass of cranberry juice for my friend here, please", she said like she owned the place. The bartender shot Orlov a glance, who nodded, then Otabek, who nodded as well, and poured another glass.
The juice was sour. Really, really sour. It made Otabek press his tongue against his palate and shake a little, which caused Orlov to laugh. Elena sipped on her glass very unimpressed.
Artjom waited by their seats, his phone pressed to his ear. When he saw them coming he hung up and greeted Yuri and Otabek.
They took their seats, Elena insisting on sitting next to Yuri. A few moments before the lights were dimmed the mother joined them, sitting down next to her husband.
"How is she?", Yuri asked, obviously referring to Irina.
The mother shrugged. "Fine. A little nervous. She'll be okay." She gave Otabek a look that sent shivers down his spine, then the lights dimmed and the voices filling the room died down.
The children didn't dance the entire ballet. It would have been too hard, even considering they didn't wear pointe shoes. The choreography was traditional but shortened to a little less than an hour. Irina did well, her movements gracious. It made her look older than her age and, as Otabek noticed with a lump in his throat, it made her look like little Yuri. She reminded him of the summer camp back then when it all began, what seemed like another life. Back when Yuri had been so strong and yet so pure. Otabek looked over to him, to the smile that was so proud as he watched this little girl dancing so beautifully on the illuminated stage. He was still so strong and still so pure. There was so much longing in his eyes though as he followed Irina's movements, and for a moment Otabek thought he saw a deep sadness in Yuri's eyes. He wanted to kiss him, pull him into his arms and promise that everything would be alright in the end. Tell him that he had to endure just a little longer. Tell him that if it was necessary he'd rather die than have Yuri suffer in this golden cage much longer.
"You have to save him", Erasyl whispered in the back of his head or in the back of his heart, Otabek couldn't tell.
The light shimmered on Yuri's silky lips. Behind him the darkness spread, making the audience almost invisible, their faces turned up to the stage where the prince, a gorgeous little boy with wild auburn curls escaping his lopsided hat, kneeled down to wake the princess up. The light dimming into a soft pink outlined the profiles of the parents and grandparents, sisters and cousins and it reflected in a pair of piercing eyes in the far back of the theatre looking his way. Even in the almost dark of the circles so far from the stage recognition stung like a stab in the pit of his stomach when Otabek realized it was one on the men from outside. The man seemed to stare at him for a second, then said something to his companion who sat next to him in the seats closest to the exit. They both got up and left the room. The heavy door fell shut, locking the light from the lobby out just as the audience started applauding because the princess was saved. It made the hairs on Otabek's arms and back stand upright. He turned to the stage with a frown, started to clap as well when the little dancers bowed, but his thoughts lingered in the dark corners of the room even when the lights came back on.
He had a bad feeling.
Irina seemed relaxed when she joined them in the lobby a few minutes after the show. "Did you watch me?", she asked Yuri and he nodded.
"Of course, princess. You did so well! I'm so proud of you." He collected the giggling girl in his arms and Elena stepped closer to get a hug as well. "I'm so proud of both of you."
The mother didn't give them much time to enjoy the closeness when with a strict voice she said: "We should head home soon, Oksana is waiting with supper for us." She held her hands out and the girls took one each. "Do you and your… Erasyl… want to join us for dinner?", she asked, spitting the name out like it was an insult.
Otabek was relieved when Yuri shook his head. "I have an appointment tonight", he replied, not specifying what kind of appointment it was, so Orlov asked:
"Will you be at the Nightshade?"
"Tomorrow." Yuri smiled at him. "Tonight I go to see Eva Mikhailova."
"I see", Orlov said, his voice pensive, then added: "Be careful."
Yuri nodded with a soft smile.
Artjom came back with the Orlov family's coats and helped the lady in hers. After Orlov had kissed Yuri good-bye their ways parted, the girls waving their little hands at them and Yuri waving back, Otabek nodding his head silently. When they were gone Yuri's smile vanished and he sighed.
"I think she hates you", he confessed, turning to Otabek with pained expression and Otabek knew that he referred to Orlov's wife.
"Yes", he agreed, "I had the impression."
"Sorry you had to go through this. I knew she was kind of xenophobic but I thought it was only about the Chinese. Then again she can probably not tell Chinese from Koreans. Or Kazakhs in this case", Yuri said strolling over to the bar, ordering a glass of vodka. "Can I treat you to something to make up for her death glares?"
"No, thank you."
"Not even a cranberry juice?" The smirk on Yuri's face was naughty and beautiful. "You seemed to enjoy it earlier…"
"Did I?" Otabek asked, maintaining a blank expression.
"You looked like you were about to spit it out only for a second or so." Yuri chuckled and shrugged, then knocked back the double shot and licked his lips. "We should get going too, I have to change before my appointment."
Otabek nodded and lead the way to the cloakroom. Most people had picked up their jackets already so there wasn't even a long line in front of the counter. "What kind of appointment is it?", he asked when the staff handed him their coats. He turned around and saw that Yuri had a blush coloring his cheeks and the tips of his ears.
"I'd rather not talk about that in public", he said, lowering his eyes.
Otabek nodded and helped Yuri into his coat, careful not to touch the pale skin of Yuri's skinny shoulder.
It was cold outside, the wind blowing harder than when they had arrived. Most of the cars had disappeared from the parking lot already, only a few scattered here and there.
Otabek helped Yuri into the R8, closing the door carefully, then circling the car again. The wind tug on his hair and collar, whistling in his ear. Just when he was about to open the door his eyes fell on a dark car facing the R8 a few parking spaces away. He pretended not to lok there too obviously but he swore he could see two people sitting in the car, watching them. He got into the Audi but before he could start the engine and switch on the headlights to see if his suspicion proved right the car pulled out of the parking lot and drove away. Otabek clenched his teeth and watched it disappear. There was no license plate.
"What's wrong?", Yuri asked. His voice sounded worried, but Otabek shook his head.
"Nothing", he murmured and fastened his seat belt. He didn't want to worry Yuri over something he probably just imagined. "I just thought I saw someone I recognized. Must be seeing things."
Yuri hummed and Otabek started the car.
The drive back to Yuri's apartment was halfway over before Yuri spoke again.
"Can you come upstairs?", he asked, almost shyly. "I need help with the dress."
"As you wish", Otabek agreed. It started raining a little and he switched the wiper on interval.
"Eva Mikhailova is the wife of Gennady Sergejevich Belyj", Yuri spoke into the silence. "He was in the KGB with Anatolij's uncle and the Orlovs owe him a lot. When I got introduced to them on Anatolij's birthday a few years ago Eva Mikhailova kind of… came to like me and she convinced Gennady Sergejevich to pay for me the next night." Yuri's shoulders hung when Otabek looked over to him, like he wanted to disappear in the seat. "She asks for my... 'services' about once a month. Anatolij doesn't like it but he can't refuse Gennady Sergejevich. At least it's only her I have to… oblige…"
Otabek swallowed. "Do they hurt you?" If the answer was "yes" he'd kill them both tonight with his bare hands.
But Yuri shook his head. "She's really gentle. I think she really fell in love with me back then. She wouldn't ever hurt me."
"What about him?"
"He only watches from the sofa… pleasuring himself. He rarely touches me." Yuri wriggled in the seat and looked over to him. "Maybe he will ask you to join him. Sergej used to take the offer…"
Otabek's voice had an edge when he replied: "I would never do that to you."
"Thank you. I'm glad you took his place." It was low but honest. It made Otabek even angrier and he couldn't even put the finger on what made him so angry. Maybe it was everything. Everything and everyone in this disgusting, filthy city.
The tension didn't vanish when they arrived at Yuri's apartment. The ride on the elevator was silent and Otabek followed Yuri into his brightly lit apartment, the boy tossing his coat over the backrest of the couch carelessly and loosening his bun. His hair fell around his skinny shoulders in big golden curls that bobbed with every step he took on the stairs that led to the upper floor.
When Yuri had led him to the closet he turned around to Otabek. "There's something I want to show you", he whispered like he was afraid the darkness outside could eavesdrop. Then he opened the door to the closet and pushed some hangers loaded with velvet and satin aside.
Otabek saw Yuri disappear between the layers of luxurious fabric and pushed them aside to take a look himself. On the far left Yuri had pressed a wooden board open, like a narrow doorway that led through the closet.
"It's the secret stairway", Yuri explained. "It leads down a few floors and into the building next door. Then there's an elevator, an old thing with no cameras and a detached electric circuit. I can sneak out there without anyone noticing." He bit his lip and looked at Otabek, the excitement shining in his eyes despite the darkness between thick, soft fabric.
Otabek exhaled shakily and dug into his pocket. "Here", he whispered back, holding out the key of the old VW. "I bought that for you. The car is in the underground car park of the bank across the street. I can show you the place."
"Otabek", Yuri whispered. He sounded like he was close to tears. With thin fingers he picked the key up from Otabek's palm.
"I will hide a key to my room so you can come to me anytime. I will leave the bolts open."
"That's dangerous", Yuri whispered, clutching the old key like it was a treasure.
"I know", he confessed. "But that's the only way. I can not lock you out."
Yuri was in his arms the blink of an eye later. His arms wrapped around Otabek's shoulders, the blonde curls were everywhere. Otabek pulled him closer, burying his nose in the golden mess, then kissed Yuri's head.
"Promise me you don't let them see you", he begged Yuri and the boy nodded rapidly. It made the tension in Otabek faint a little. With a sigh he held Yuri for another moment, then let go of him. "I'll find a way", he promised. "I just need more time. I'm sorry."
Yuri bit his lower lip and shook his head, then hid his face in the crook of Otabek's neck. Otabek couldn't say if he was crying. That way or the other all he could do was hold him tight.
и
Gennady Sergejevich Belyj did offer Otabek to join them.
When the servant had opened the door it took mere seconds until the man appeared in a door at the end of the corridor. He was older than Otabek had expected, over 60 for sure, his hair white and his beard well-groomed. He looked elegant in his dark blue robe but Otabek hated everything about him. Eva Mikhailova on the contrary was way younger than Otabek had pictured her. She must be at least 25 years her husband's junior, or maybe it was the gleam in her eyes that made her look almost juvenile when she spotted Yuri.
"Katyusha", she practically sang and hurried over to them, looking him up and down.
Yuri had changed into a black suit that looked similar to Otabek's just a thousand times more expensive if the shimmer of the fabric was anything to go by. His hair was braided and draped over his shoulder, the curls from his earlier hairdo making it thick and squiggled.
"It's a pleasure to have you here." With that she placed her hand on Yuri's cheek and kissed him passionately. Yuri immediately fell into his role, kissing her back with no less fire, his hands holding her by the waist.
"I missed you", she whispered against his lips, blushing and Yuri smiled.
"I missed you too, my love."
Otabek's stomach turned.
"Is this a friend of yours?", she asked, looking over to Otabek who had merely intended to escort Yuri inside. She leaned into Yuri's embrace and it looked so loving that Otabek could have thought they were a couple for real. It was terrifying how convincing Yuri's act was.
"My new driver, the substitute for Sergej", Yuri explained and kissed her forehead.
"He should join us", Belyj suggested with a wide smile. "The more the merrier. And there's nothing like the sight of two so beautiful creatures in the act of love!"
Otabek grit his teeth and bowed slightly. "I am flattered by the offer", he sad with as much self-control as he could summon, his voice a deep growl. "But my religion forbids me any attendance in deeds of fruitless pleasure. I must retreat."
"Oh what a pity!", the man said. "But how do they say: Let every man seek heaven in his own fashion." He gestured to the door they had appeared from. "Let's get you inside, Katyusha and out of those uncomfortable clothes."
With a last reassuring glance Yuri turned away and followed the man, his wife still clinging to him like a tick.
The servant closed the door behind Otabek who felt like he was about to throw up into the pittoresque flower bed.