Betrayed Bride, Billionaire's Beloved Queen

Aurora POV: The cab's heater was broken, blowing nothing but lukewarm air that did nothing to fight the freezing dampness of my clothes. I wrapped my arms tightly around my torso, digging my fingers into my sides to preserve whatever body heat I had left. The solitary confinement cells back in the facility never had heat. Three years of freezing in the dark had given me a physiological terror of the cold. Outside the window, the blizzard raged. The old windshield wipers scraped back and forth with a loud, grating screech that set my teeth on edge. I caught the driver staring at me through the rearview mirror. His eyes swept over my faded, oversized coat, my unwashed hair, and my bare, shivering hands. His expression was full of blatant disgust. I felt his gaze and slowly lifted my chin, staring right back at him through the mirror. My eyes were completely dead, offering zero apology for my existence. He swallowed hard, quickly shifting his eyes back to the icy road ahead. I turned my head, fixing my gaze on the blur of white snow flying past the window. The glass caught my reflection. My cheeks were hollow, my skin pale and completely devoid of life. I raised a trembling hand and touched my face. The skin was rough, weathered by harsh prison soap and lack of care. A sudden image flashed in my mind. Three years ago. Clara, my beautiful, delicate stepsister, collapsing into my parents' arms in the middle of our living room, sobbing hysterically. I squeezed my eyes shut, but the memory only grew louder. I could hear my father's booming, furious voice echoing in my skull. He had stood over me, his face red with rage, demanding I take the fall for the fatal medical error Clara had made at the family's pharmaceutical company. You owe this family, Aurora. You will do this for your sister. I remembered my mother sitting next to me on the sofa. She had grabbed my hands, her tears spilling over her perfectly powdered cheeks, promising me that the family would compensate me, that they would never abandon me. I snapped my eyes open, violently shaking my head to shatter the memory. The cab suddenly slammed on the brakes. My body jerked forward with violent force. I threw my hands out, bracing them against the back of the driver's seat to stop myself from smashing into the partition. The driver cursed loudly, slamming his hand against the steering wheel as a massive city snowplow blocked the intersection ahead. I ignored his yelling and looked at the glowing digital meter on the dashboard. The numbers were climbing rapidly. I reached into my pocket and pulled out the thin envelope of cash the warden had given me upon release. It was barely fifty dollars. We were still ten miles away from Oyster Bay. The money wasn't going to be enough. I pulled out my phone, pressing the power button to check the screenshot again and memorize the route. The screen flashed a blinding white light, flickered twice, and went completely black. I cursed under my breath and slammed the useless piece of plastic onto the seat beside me. I took a deep, steadying breath. "Pull over at the next intersection." The driver didn't argue. He forced the cab to the side of the road, stopping about two miles short of the gated community zone. I tossed every single crumpled dollar bill I had onto the front seat and pushed the heavy door open. The wind hit me like a physical blow, dragging the heavy snow in a swirling vortex around my body. I stepped out. My cheap shoes sank instantly into the snow, the freezing wetness seeping through my socks and biting into my ankles. I gritted my teeth and took my first step forward, relying purely on the mental map I had burned into my brain from the screenshot. I walked along the coastline. The massive wrought-iron gates and high-tech security cameras of the neighboring mansions stared down at me like cold, unblinking eyes. My lungs burned. My toes went completely numb. Every step required a massive act of willpower, but I kept moving. After thirty minutes of dragging my freezing body through the storm, I finally stopped. I stood outside a towering, custom-built iron gate. Beyond the bars, a massive, brilliantly lit estate sat at the end of a long driveway. I gripped the freezing metal bars, staring at the warm, golden light spilling from the floor-to-ceiling windows. My breath plumed in the freezing air, my throat raw and scraping like sandpaper. "Julian, you better have a perfect explanation."