Hate Mail (Paper Cuts #1) Read Online Winter Renshaw

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary Tags Authors: Series: Paper Cuts Series by Winter Renshaw
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Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 74730 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 374(@200wpm)___ 299(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
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“If I could get the bride and groom to the middle of the dance floor,” the lead singer of the wedding band announces once plates are cleared. “Mr. and Mrs. Delacorte, it is our privileged honor to perform the song your late mother chose for your first dance.”

My stomach falls to the floor, but on the outside, I maintain my composure.

I had no idea this was going to happen. I thought we were dancing to some meaningless contemporary Top 40 song Blythe had chosen months back. Searching the crowd, I find my father. He gives me a nod, confirming that my mother did, indeed, choose a special song for us.

Taking Campbell by the hand, I lead her to the middle of the dance floor, slip my hands around her waist, and pull her against me as the band begins to play Make You Feel My Love.

While the lyrics are poetic and poignant, I tune them out.

The last thing I want to feel—the last thing I deserve to feel—is Campbell’s love.

23

Campbell

“Can you unbutton me?” I ask Slade when we get to our honeymoon suite. Today was easily the longest day of my entire life. My feet are on fire, my ribs ache from the shapewear, and my face hurts from all the smiling I did today.

“Turn around,” Slade says, his voice low.

All night, he lavished me with his attention, his eyes holding both a heaviness and a mysterious glint that made it impossible to look away and even more impossible to know what was real and what wasn’t. Granted, he told me last night he could never love me, but there were certain moments today where I felt … adored.

His fingers work the first button, then the second, grazing my skin ever so slightly. With each unfastening, I can breathe a little easier, so I drag in the long, slow, deep breaths my lungs so badly craved throughout the day.

We must have danced for hours hand in hand, arm in arm, laughing and making fools of ourselves but in the best way—at least for all intents and purposes. In reality we were just actors playing parts, but experiencing that much amiability from Slade for the first time in twenty-four years has, in a way, tilted my world on its axis.

“It was a nice wedding, wasn’t it,” I say when he gets to the last section of buttons. Pressing my arms against my chest, I keep my dress from falling down. There’s no need to be shy at this point, yet somehow I’m feeling more vulnerable than ever in this dauntingly quiet hotel room, just the two of us, no more fanfare or watchful gazes. “Everyone seemed like they had a good time.”

He says nothing.

“I’m taking a shower,” he announces when he’s finished. I wait for him to disappear in the bathroom before letting the dress fall to a heap on the floor. I shimmy out of my shapewear, tossing it aside, as the spray of the shower sounds from the en suite.

Our suitcases are resting side by side on the other side of the room. Someone must have placed them there while we were at the reception. Unzipping mine, I filet it open and locate my pajamas—a matching baby blue tank top and shorts made of the softest jersey T-shirt material. I almost thought about packing lingerie … just in case … but I didn’t want to jinx anything.

After our conversation last night, I know I made the right call.

If he’s incapable of ever loving me, why would I so much as consider giving my body to him? And as far as babies are concerned, we can do IUI or IVF. If Slade doesn’t want my heart, he sure as hell isn’t getting my body.

I’m about to shut my bag and get changed when I remember the note Oliver delivered earlier. Unzipping that pocket, I retrieve the crisp white envelope with my name ornately scribed in Delia’s delicate cursive. Slipping my pajamas on, I shuffle to the king-sized bed, shove the red rose petals aside, and splay out in the middle before carefully tearing the seal on the letter.

Dearest Campbell—

If you’re reading this, unfortunately it means my time on Earth has come to pass. There are so many things I’d have said to you today had I been there, but given that some things in life are beyond our control, this letter will have to suffice.

Firstly, it has been both an honor and a privilege watching you grow from the sweet little baby who always sported a smile when she saw me to the beautiful young woman who has embraced her unconventional birthright. Despite this marriage having been arranged on your behalf, it’s important for you to know that neither myself and Victor nor your parents would have forced the two of you to go through with any of it if we didn’t think you’d be the perfect pairing.


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