Screams rang out as high-society guests dove beneath mahogany tables and velvet sofas.

Three men in dark tactical gear carrying suppressed submachine guns burst through the shattered glass doors of the Plaza lobby, spraying bullets into the vaulted ceiling to induce absolute terror.

They were Rossi’s elite hitmen—a desperate, bloody attempt to eliminate Roman and Sadi in one swift strike before the Delaware Treasury injunction could execute.

"Down!" Roman bellowed, throwing his broad body over Sadi, shielding her completely with his frame as bullets tore through the crystal chandeliers above.

Marco and four Moretti soldiers instantly drew their weapons, returning fire from behind the marble pillars, driving the attackers back toward the entrance.

"Sadi! Stay behind the bar!" Roman ordered, pulling a heavy-caliber handgun from his inner tuxedo holster.

"Roman, no!" Sadi gasped, holding his lapel. "They're trying to pin you in the lobby!"

"I know," Roman rasped, his face transformed into a mask of pure, lethal instinct. "And they're about to learn why nobody attacks my family."

He kissed her fiercely on the lips—a brief, burning taste of fire and passion that left her breathless—before spinning out from behind the mahogany bar.

Roman moved like a phantom through the thick white smoke.

His sidearm discharged with cold, rhythmic precision. Thump. Thump. Thump.

Three shots rang out. Three attackers collapsed onto the marble floor, their weapons clattering across the slick tile.

The lead gunman, bleeding from a shoulder wound, whirled toward Roman, raising his asNextlt rifle—

Sadi didn't freeze. She grabbed a heavy glass ice bucket from the bar and threw it with all her strength directly into the gunman's face.

The heavy glass struck the man’s jaw with a loud CRACK, throwing his aim off for a fraction of a second.

That fraction was all Roman needed.

Roman closed the distance in a heartbeat, grabbing the rifle barrel with his left hand, twisting it upward, and driving a devastating right hook into the man’s jaw, knocking him unconscious instantly.

Silence fell over the destroyed ballroom, broken only by the hiss of shattered water pipes and the frantic breathing of the survivors.

Roman stood in the center of the room, covered in dust and smoke, his tuxedo torn. He turned slowly, his dark eyes frantically searching the bar until they landed on Sadi standing whole, unharmed, and holding a secondary glass bottle in a defensive stance.

A breathless, dark laugh escaped Roman’s chest.

He walked over to her, pulled her out from behind the bar, and wrapped his heavy arms around her waist, pulling her tight against his chest as if he would never let her go.

"You threw an ice bucket at a hitman," Roman whispered into her hair, his voice thick with awe and pure love.

"He was aiming at you," Sadi wept into his neck, holding his shoulders with all her strength.

"I love you, Sadi," Roman whispered against her skin.

Sadi pulled back, looking into his burning dark eyes, her heart overflowing with unshakeable certainty. "I love you too, Roman."