Once we had Ciana and her babies hidden away, it was time to get home. It had been three days since I’d seen Ryan, but he wasn’t aware I’d been gone for more than a few hours since he’d only just gotten back from a business trip earlier in the day. As soon as I’d known his plane was in the air, Anya and I had boarded the second Vitucci jet, knowing that time was a precious commodity.

Now Ciana was with her mother deep in the wilderness of Russia, protected by a hundred of the scariest soldiers I’d ever set eyes on, and I was more nervous about facing my husband than I’d been about meeting those deadly men. I was going to be in so much trouble once I confessed what I’d been up to while he was away.

Now that he knew what had really taken place when his mom and I would go to Paris after each Christmas in the past, I didn’t keep anything from him. At least, not for long. I knew he would have tried to stop us if he knew what we’d planned, so I wasn’t about to tell him beforehand. But now that it was over and Ciana was safe, I wouldn’t lie to him about what I’d been doing while he was away.

“That shoulder is really going to need looking at,” Anya said as the limo pulled up in front of the mansion. “I think whatever happened to cause you to dislocate it in the past tore something that just isn’t healing right.”

I shifted my shoulder, trying to loosen the muscles that had gotten stiff during the drive from the airport. When my injured shoulder protested, I grimaced, knowing she was right. I probably should have had the damn thing checked when I first got back to New York after our honeymoon, but it had been right before Christmas, and I’d needed to rush to get all my shopping done in time for the presents to arrive in both California and Colombia.

“I’ll set you up an appointment,” my mother-in-law promised as the back door of the limo was opened for her to exit. She stepped out but stuck her head back in. “Good luck with your husband,” she said with a smirk.

I rolled my eyes at her. “Good luck with yours,” I shot back.

“No luck is needed, l’vitsa. I know how to handle mine. As I’m sure you are learning to do with your own.” With a wink, she closed the door, and the driver continued along the path to my house.

We’d kept the plans simple for our home, which had started construction weeks before I’d even graduated high school. It was a beautiful two-story house with a wraparound porch that was set close to Zariah’s slightly smaller house. While hers was only a three-bedroom, Ryan had insisted on six for ours, stating we would need room for my parents when they visited and all the children he hoped we were blessed with in the future.