The second bullet struck the chandelier.

Glass exploded over the ballroom.

Julian covered Nico with his body while Marcus and the security team returned fire toward the opposite rooftop. Guests screamed from behind overturned tables.

“Stay down,” Julian ordered.

Nico shoved against his shoulder.

“You’re on top of me.”

“That is the purpose.”

“You’re heavier than your personality.”

Another shot punched through the wall.

Julian dragged Nico behind the marble stage.

Marcus crouched beside them.

“Shooter is on the building east of us. My team is moving.”

“No,” Nico said.

Marcus looked at him.

“One shooter wants us looking east.”

Julian understood immediately.

“Secondary team.”

The ballroom doors burst open.

Three men in hotel staff uniforms entered with weapons drawn.

Marcus fired first.

Julian pushed Nico behind the stage curtain and moved toward the nearest attacker. He caught the man’s wrist, drove it against the wall, and took the weapon before the attacker could turn.

Nico grabbed a fallen metal microphone stand.

A second man rounded the curtain.

Nico swung low.

The stand struck the attacker’s knee. As he fell, Nico drove an elbow into his throat and kicked the weapon away.

Julian fired across the stage.

The third attacker dropped behind a table.

Silence followed.

Not complete silence.

A man groaned near the ballroom entrance.

Water hissed from the damaged sprinkler system.

Nico’s breathing sounded too loud.

Julian crossed the distance between them and seized Nico by the shoulders.

“Are you hit?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“I generally notice bullets.”

Julian checked his chest, sides, arms, and face.

His hands stopped at Nico’s waist.

Nico stared at him.

Their agreement hung between them.

Julian released him immediately.

“Immediate threat,” he said.

Nico’s pulse was still racing.

“I know.”

Marcus approached the injured attacker and pulled off the man’s hotel jacket. A Marconi tattoo marked his forearm.

“The shooter on the roof is gone,” Marcus said. “He left the rifle.”

“It was never meant to succeed,” Nico said.

Julian turned.

“The rooftop shots drove us toward the internal team.”

“And the internal team had hotel credentials, floor plans, and your cuff-link tracker.”

Marcus removed a key card from the attacker’s pocket.

“Credentials were issued through Vance Foundation event security.”

Julian looked toward Adrian.

The CFO stood beside Elena, his white shirt streaked with water and chandelier dust.

He appeared shocked.

Too shocked.

Nico filed the reaction away.

Police sirens approached from Fifth Avenue.

Sofia emerged from cover.

“You both need to disappear before NYPD turns this into a federal circus.”

“I have a safe location,” Julian said.

“No,” Nico replied. “I have class.”

Everyone stared at him.

Sofia blinked. “You were just shot at.”

“Technically, Julian was shot at.”

Julian’s expression darkened.

“You are not going to Columbia.”

“I have a professional-responsibility hearing at noon.”

“You will miss it.”

“I already missed a moot court reception because you kidnapped me. I’m not letting organized crime ruin my GPA.”

“Nico.”

The single word carried more force than a shouted threat.

Nico stepped closer.

“If I vanish after marrying you, everyone watching us will know I’m hiding. I go to campus with visible security. We make the tracker believe the assassination failed and everything is normal.”

“Nothing about you is normal.”

“You married me.”

“A mistake I am beginning to appreciate.”

Nico smiled. “That sounded affectionate.”

“It was not.”

But Julian’s gaze moved to the cut near Nico’s eyebrow.

The anger in it was too intense for indifference.

Four hours later, Nico walked through Columbia’s law-school entrance with Marcus ten steps behind him and two additional guards disguised badly as graduate students.

Julian had refused the plan until Nico threatened to lock the ledger.

Then he had added eleven conditions.

Bullet-resistant SUV.

Armored route.

Secure classroom.

No unplanned stops.

A tracking device Nico was allowed to inspect himself.

Julian had remained at Vance Tower to investigate the internal authorization breach.

At least, that was what he claimed.

Nico entered the hearing room and took his seat.

The dean stared at his bruised face.

“Mr. Russo, are you in some kind of trouble?”

“That depends on whether attendance affects my final grade.”

His phone vibrated.

JULIAN: Leave the building.

Nico typed beneath the table.

NICO: The hearing hasn’t started.

JULIAN: The fire alarm on the third floor was manually disabled.

Nico’s humor disappeared.

He looked through the glass panel in the door.

Marcus was no longer in the hallway.

NICO: Where is Marcus?

No response.

The lights went out.

Students gasped.

Nico stood.

A fire alarm began sounding two floors below.

Someone wanted the building evacuated—but not from this floor.

Nico moved toward the emergency exit.

The door opened before he reached it.

A masked man entered.

Nico threw the nearest chair.

The attacker blocked it and reached beneath his coat.

Nico crossed the room before the weapon cleared.

He slammed the man’s wrist against the doorframe, twisted, and drove his knee into the attacker’s stomach.

Students scattered.

The weapon hit the floor.

Nico kicked it beneath a table.

A second attacker appeared behind him.

An arm locked across Nico’s throat.

He drove his heel down, missed the man’s foot, then threw his weight backward into the wall.

The grip loosened.

Nico tore off his tie, looped it around the attacker’s wrist, and twisted until the man dropped to one knee.

A blade flashed.

Pain burned across Nico’s side.

He struck the attacker’s throat with his forearm.

The man collapsed.

Blood spread beneath Nico’s shirt.

Not deep.

Probably.

Nico retrieved the gun from beneath the table, ordered the remaining students into the adjoining office, and locked the door behind them.

His phone rang.

Julian.

Nico answered.

“You were right.”

Gunfire cracked from the stairwell.

Julian’s voice changed.

“Where are you?”

“Third-floor hearing room.”

“Are you injured?”

“A little.”

“How little?”

“Nico little.”

“That is not a measurement.”

The classroom door shook under an impact.

Nico aimed at it.

“Someone’s coming in.”

“Get away from the door.”

“I have a gun.”

“Get away from the goddamn door.”

The wood splintered.

Nico fired once.

The attacker outside fell back.

Then the windows shattered.

A black tactical line dropped past the building.

Julian swung through the opening.

He landed inside the classroom with a handgun raised, black coat open and fury burning through every trace of control.

Nico stared.

“You climbed the building?”

Julian crossed the room and caught him before his knees weakened.

“I used the roof.”

“That’s less romantic.”

Julian saw the blood at Nico’s side.

The world seemed to stop inside his eyes.

“Who did this?”

Nico tried to answer.

A wounded attacker rose behind Julian.

Nico saw the knife.

He shoved Julian sideways.

The blade came down.

Julian turned.

Steel entered his shoulder.

He fired once.

The attacker fell.

Julian remained standing for one second.

Then blood covered Nico’s hand.

“Julian.”

“I’m fine.”

“You have a knife in your shoulder.”

“It missed the artery.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I know anatomy.”

“You own banks.”

Julian pulled Nico toward the hall.

Marcus appeared at the stairwell, blood on his collar but moving.

“Extraction vehicle is downstairs.”

Julian’s steps faltered.

Nico caught him around the waist.

For once, Julian did not reject the support.

They moved through the corridor together.

At the bottom of the stairs, one of the attackers lay conscious against the wall. Marcus had secured his hands.

The man looked at Julian and smiled through bloodied teeth.

“Your husband was never the real target.”

Julian stopped.

The attacker’s gaze shifted to Nico.

“He was the bait.”