How Long Did The Goliath Expedition From Punta Arenas To Russia Take?

An ocean between them didn't kill what they had. It just put it on ice. The first time Mia Conti saw Elias Weston, she didn't even know his name. He was just the stranger at the airport who lifted her suitcase without a word. She never expected to see him again—until she walked into the Toronto Raiders' locker room as their new medical intern. Face-to-face with the league's most untouchable, arrogant superstar, Mia realized her "helpful stranger" was actually her biggest professional nightmare. A fiery romance ignites between them, but keeping it alive across oceans and time zones is a different game. As the Chief Sports Medicine Specialist for the Winter Olympics, Mia is busier than ever. Her absence from his games has the media convinced their relationship is dead, painting Elias as a billionaire bachelor who has long moved on. But the tabloids don't see what happens behind closed doors. When Elias arrives in Milan, the world expects a hockey captain strictly focused on gold. Yet, the second they are alone, his hand closes around her waist with a grip of steel. "Long time no see, Mia." The flashbulbs are still going off, but all she can hear is his jagged whisper. "I came back for you." Elias Weston has never been afraid of thin ice. And this time, he's ready to let it all crack just to keep her.

The day my husband, Reece Malcolm, reached the pole for his polar expedition, his childhood sweetheart who was sent away reappeared in his bedroom. Everyone had kept it from me. Erica Lowell had been by his side day and night. Though Reece said he didn't want her there, he still allowed her to stay by his side for four years as his assistant. "You have to believe me, Lucy. There's nothing between Erica and me," he used to say. Always so sure. Always so convincing. But when he returned, it was with Erica in his arms—heavily pregnant. "She threatened to kill herself, Lucy. I didn't have a choice," he said. "The baby's coming. I need you to raise it. You know you're the only one I've ever loved." Four years. Four years of silence, of waiting alone in a house that never felt like home. Now, the lawyer is hired. The assets are tallied. The divorce papers are signed and sealed. I'm done.

From dating to marriage, seven years together, Kevin Fletcher bailed on fifty-two trips with me. Every single time, he had an excuse. A project deadline. A last-minute business trip. An elderly relative who suddenly wasn't doing well. And every single time, he promised he'd make it up to me. I believed him. Fifty-two times. Until last month, when I found a travel planner tucked away in his study. Inside were fifty-two plane tickets to the same city. And fifty-two photos of him and his so-called childhood friend, Fiona Snow. Written on the first photo: [She said she wanted to see the ocean, so I cleared my schedule and took her.] On the thirty-third: [She got drunk and said her biggest regret was never starting a family with me.] The fifty-second photo was dated the same day he blew off our fifth wedding anniversary trip. On the back, he'd written: [She's pregnant. I'm going to be a dad!] I wiped my tears away, opened my laptop, and drafted the divorce papers. Then I booked a ticket to Antarctica. This time, I was going to see the view alone.

The night before our group trip, Raymond Kane tags me in the group chat and tells me to check my flight ticket. When I open the booking, I discover my ticket was refunded three days ago—without anyone telling me. Before I can even type a reply, the messages start pouring in. Madelyn announces, "I bet Ray that you wouldn't check the booking before we left. He got you to look it up yourself. That's cheating!" Raymond shrugs it off. "Doesn't matter. You still lost. She only just found out. Just book another one. We'll just have to sit apart." Their casual banter brings back a familiar ache. It reminds me of the time they bet on how long it would take me to realize my hotel room has been downgraded from a standard double to a shared triple, leaving me to sleep on a folding cot. And before that, they bet on whether I'd notice the art museum on our itinerary had been replaced with an escape room. Whenever I tell them it hurts, they always give the same tired reply. "How were we supposed to know you cared if you never said anything?" But they never ask. I close the booking app and open another one, searching for flights to Isvind. I imagine myself surrounded by the silence of a 5°F night, with the northern lights painting the sky above me. Perhaps a solo trip is exactly what I need.

She lied to herself. She told herself that her heart was on fire because of 'Pumpkin' Santiago's disabled daughter. Yes, she loved the beautiful damsel but she loved her father far more. But he is a notorious mafia lord, how can she be with such a man? At the end of 365 days, Bianca Forbes and her father were freed from Santiago's clutches. But he had stolen her heart. Santiago Castillo, A Russian Mafia lord and werewolf, shut his heart against Bianca because his wolf liked her. Despite his desire to have her, he let her go because he didn't want to be reminded of his roots. Both parted ways until fate brought them together again. Will they choose love this time or will they allow their sentiments to lead them again?

In the dead of this frozen apocalypse, the shelter's fusion core was on the verge of overload. I grabbed my repair kit and sprinted for the basement, only to have the guard captain's girlfriend, Miranda Dunn, step right into my path. "Everyone, come look! Zach’s about to dump poison into the vents. He's gonna kill us all!" Her voice cut through the air as she shrieked. "I didn’t approve a private room for him two days ago, and now, he wants us all dead!" The guards didn't bother asking questions. They slammed me hard against the freezing metal door. "Zach, are you going to kill us all over a room? We're taking you in for interrogation!" I stared at the control panel, its readings spiking into the red, and shouted, "If the core blows up, none of us will make it out alive!" But they were too busy trying to impress Miranda and brushed off my warning, thinking I had lost it. Nineteen minutes remained before the core exploded.