Just before the bellhop at the St. Regis could reach for the polished brass doors, Roman Castile stepped through the glass threshold and entirely forgot how to draw breath.

Gunfire erupted.

Roman tackled Juliet to the balcony floor just as a volley of automatic rounds chewed through the plaster where they had been standing.

"Stay down!" Roman roared, pulling his sidearm from his shoulder holster.

Silas hadn't acted alone. His loyalists had mobilized the moment he was taken to the basement. They had breached the penthouse.

"The kids!" Juliet screamed, pure maternal terror taking over.

"I've got them!" Roman yelled. He crawled through the shattered doorway, firing three precise shots down the hallway. Two masked men dropped instantly.

Roman moved like a demon unleashed. He grabbed Juliet’s hand, dragging her toward the master suite. The penthouse was a war zone, the air thick with cordite and smoke.

They burst into the bedroom. Leo and Mia were huddled in the corner, clutching each other, terrified but entirely silent.

"Under the bed. Now," Roman commanded. The children scrambled underneath the heavy oak frame.

The bedroom door was kicked open. A heavily armed mercenary stepped in, raising his rifle. Roman didn't hesitate. He threw his body in front of Juliet, taking the bullet meant for her in his left shoulder. He didn't even flinch. He fired back, dropping the man with a bullet between the eyes.

"Roman! You're bleeding!" Juliet cried, catching him as he stumbled backward.

"It's through and through. I'm fine," he grunted, slamming the heavy steel reinforced panic door shut and engaging the biometric lock. They were safe, for now, in the reinforced suite.

Outside, Viktor and the loyalist guards were sweeping the floor, wiping out the remains of Silas's men. But inside the room, Roman slid down the door, leaving a trail of blood on the white wood.