Russia's rich and shameless

And so they turn to Sergei Knyazev. They call him the "producer." He loves saying that; he even embossed it on his business card. But he's really more of a psychologist-turned-opportunist, ready to help "the overburdened rich relieve the pressure of money and its obligations."

"They just don't know how to relax," he says. "I help them. I'm outrageously expensive. These people don't trust anything that's not expensive."

To be so mercenary and truthful in a single breath -- refreshing, yet spooky. But this is Russia, home to billionaires and unbridled egos, a neurotic, champagne-scented landscape of black suits, diamonds, gadgets and guns all loose amid the moneyed classes with their big dogs and security men.

Knyazev began conventionally enough, arranging parties and banquets several years ago for the ice-sculpture-and-caviar circuit. But how many long tables, embroidered linens, fluted crystal, Moet bubbles and vanity portraits must a multimillionaire endure? Spinning capitalist schemes and pocketing oil and gas wealth, the new oligarchs craved more. They wanted to be intrigued; they wanted their sequins rattled.

"I now do entertainment of all kinds, from the pretty exotic to the really indecent. What do you want to talk about?"

The really indecent, of course, but let's go slow.

"Once I had a client who twice proposed to a girl and each time she turned him down. He didn't want to be rejected a third time, so he came to me. He was very wealthy, old Russian money. The girl's name was Olga. I found out where she lived. It was a new house, and the grounds outside had not yet been landscaped. So one night, while she was sleeping, we turned it into a big garden with beautiful flowers spelling out her name. Big letters. The 'O' was so big that you could fit two cars inside of it.

"In the morning the boyfriend was standing in the garden with an orchestra. They played a serenade

Charming, that Olga thing, very "Sleepless in Seattle," but how about something with a bit more edge?

Knyazev smiles, a mischievous glimmer of the teeth. It is a self-satisfied smirk that says: "You want more? I've got a whole lot more."