Emiliano had never built anything in his life.

He had only ever performed, and stolen, and performed the theft.

And now he was performing his devotion to a woman he’d paid to erase, and half the room was buying it, and I let him reach the very peak of the performance — let him say the word legacy, let him accept the applause — before I opened my mouth from the back of the room and let him hear, for the first time, that his audience had never been asleep.

Chapter 19 — Standing

The applause died.

Emiliano froze.