“You first, loverboy. Tell me why you left me the day before our wedding without so much as a goodbye. Massive case of cold feet? Or did you hit your head and remember you were already married?”
He draws a deep breath, then releases it, bowing his head to rest on our clasped hands. Unlike mine, his forehead is cool and dry.
He murmurs, “I never wanted to hurt you. I’m so sorry, Natalie.”
“Great. Skip to the good part.”
He exhales heavily, presses a soft kiss to the back of each of my hands, and releases them, rising. He returns to the sofa opposite mine and sits.
“I take it you know I was involved with the mafia.”
“Yes.”
“I was an accountant for the New York syndicate. I reported directly to the big boss.”
“Maxim Mogdonovich.”
David nods. “It was a desk job. I didn’t get my hands
