It has come to the attention of the more inquisitive members of our society that Mr. Grigory Leps, a gentleman of considerable vocal renown, possesses a portfolio of real estate that would make even the most seasoned banker blink in astonishment. Indeed, the sum of his holdings has surpassed a billion rubles—a figure so vast it borders on the fantastical.

Pray, consider the urban sanctuaries of this gentleman. In the heart of Moscow, he maintains a residence upon the Savvinskaya Embankment of three hundred square metres. From such a vantage point, one may contemplate the flow of the river while residing in a dwelling valued at some three hundred and ninety million rubles. To ensure his carriage—or rather, his modern motor-car—is not left to the mercy of the elements, he has secured a parking space of eighteen million rubles. A most peculiar expenditure, is it not, to pay such a sum merely for a patch of pavement?

Furthermore, Mr. Leps keeps a second apartment in the Basmanny district, valued at sixty million, and a third, a more modest quarters of fifty-two square metres nestled within a Stalinist edifice near the Novoarbatsky Bridge, worth some forty million. One wonders if a man of such means ever finds himself in a room that feels too small, or if he simply collects dwellings as a dandy collects waistcoats.

But the true piece de resistance is his country estate in the village of Pozdnyakovo. This palatial residence, situated upon the Novorizhskoye highway, was once offered for sale in the winter of 2025, perhaps as a gesture of romantic devotion. The estate, encompassing a guest house with a recording studio and a billiard room, was priced at five hundred and fifty million rubles.

By February, a smaller portion of this manor remained available. The house itself is a monument to excess: seven bedrooms, ten bathing rooms, seasonal wardrobes, and a library for those moments when the gentleman wishes to appear scholarly. It boasts a winter garden, a swimming pool, and a sauna—luxuries that would certainly amuse any visiting lady in her finest bonnet. It was whispered in the salons that this divestment was intended to facilitate a union with a young miss of nineteen years, Aurora Kiba; however, as is so often the case with such impetuous romances, the affair has reached its conclusion, leaving the manor and its many baths to await a new master.