The sleek black sedan glided through the quiet streets of New York City as Evelyn and I headed back to her villa. The events of the engagement party still hung between us like electricity in the air.
"So," Evelyn said, breaking the comfortable silence. Her fingers drummed against her purse. "My mysterious fiancé can apparently lift grown men with one hand."
"You saw that too?"
"Everyone saw that. The question is what else can you do that I don't know about?"
I glanced at her sideways. The streetlights cast moving shadows across her face as we drove. "Are you sure you want to know?"
"Try me."
"I can cook."
She blinked. "Cook?"
"And clean. Basic household maintenance. I know seventeen different languages, though most people only speak four or five of them. I can perform surgery, set broken bones, cure terminal illnesses, identify poisons by smell, and make explosives from common household chemicals."
Evelyn stared at me. "You're joking."
