Can I Read 'My Daughter'S Keeper' Online For Free?

“I never wanted you or our daughter.” For five years, I pretended to be in a happy marriage with Andrew Morgan. I left my career to be with this billionaire bachelor to raise a family with him. A family that he never wanted. Of course, I should have known that his heart is still with Eleanor Walsh. Why else would he come chasing after her after she abandoned him for years? I was blind with love, and now my daughter and I are paying the price. “I need you here with me now,” I said. “Our daughter is in danger.” “Eleanor and Lottie need me more!” Andrew snapped. I begged. I cried. None of that mattered to Andrew. Even then, I had hope. I had love. But all of that changed when I found myself alone, with my dead daughter in my arms. “You can spend all your time with Eleanor and Lottie,” I spat at him. “We’re going to be divorced soon!” Andrew caught me by the wrist and stopped me. “You’re not going anywhere. Who said I agreed to the divorce?”

My daughter, Tina, locked herself in her room, crying so hard her body shook. I pried the door open and saw that she was clutching a test paper that was torn to shreds and pieced back together. It was a math Olympiad selection test. She should have gotten a perfect score, but was given a score of zero instead. "Mom," she sobbed, "the teacher said 3x5 is not equal to 5x3; that it's taking shortcuts. She tore my paper up in front of everyone, revoked my eligibility for the competition, and told the whole class not to talk to me…" I looked at the deep red scratch marks on my daughter's wrist and immediately picked up the phone to call the principal. "What good does it do for your school's reputation to drive a kid who loves math to their breaking point?"

That night was supposed to belong to Mia. She had spent a month practicing for her first piano recital. I had cooked all afternoon, set the table, and helped her into the pale blue dress Luca loved. She stood beside the piano, cheeks flushed, fingers trembling with excitement. Then Luca's phone rang. Vivienne was spiraling again. After Luca's older brother died, his widow never really came back from it. On her worst nights, she forgot the difference between the dead husband she had lost and the brother-in-law who kept showing up to save her. And Luca always showed up. Every time Vivienne broke, he left us behind. Every time he came home, he brought apologies, pretty gifts, and promises for next time. And every time, I believed him. Until that night. Before he could make another excuse, I placed the divorce papers in front of him. He signed without reading them, then touched my shoulder like he was the one being generous. "When this is over, I'll make it up to you," he said. "You, me, and Mia. The Maldives. No calls. No interruptions." Then he kissed our daughter's hair and walked out before she played a single note. What Luca didn't know was that Mia's passport was already packed. So was the little suitcase under her bed. I was done waiting for a man who only loved us when no one else needed him. This time, he could come home to an empty house.

Rumor had spread through the Vittori family that the daughter they had lost years ago had finally been found. The moment I heard, I left the family branch and rushed back to the main estate. My car had barely stopped when a young woman hurried over and grabbed my hand. “So you’re the Vittori family’s adopted daughter,” she said with a smile that looked painfully sincere. “Your dress is so beautiful. It must cost tens of thousands of dollars. You can tell you’ve never really had to worry about anything before. Unlike me. I grew up in places where even finding my next meal was a problem.” For a second, I didn’t understand what she meant. Then her eyes lowered to the only necklace around her neck. “This is the only thing I have from Mother,” she whispered. “Please don’t hate me for wearing it.” The next second, she suddenly grabbed my hand, dragged it up toward her throat, and yanked hard. The necklace snapped. Pearls scattered across the marble floor. “Why would you do that?” she cried, staring at me in shock. “If you hate seeing Mother’s gift on me, I’ll take it off right now. I won’t stay and make things difficult for you. Just please don’t tell Father and Mother. I don’t want them caught in the middle, and I don’t want this family fighting because of me.” She curled into herself on the marble floor, shaking as she cried, while the guests around us immediately turned to stare. I stood there completely stunned. I had imagined a thousand ways I might meet my daughter again. I never imagined she would look me in the eye, mistake me for someone else, and frame me before I had even spoken. Because I was not Valentina. I was her mother.

When down-on-her-luck Rennie Brooks accepts a job as a live-in nanny for the daughter of cold, enigmatic billionaire Shawn Wolfe, she believes it’s just another job—and another clingy child—until the little girl looks up at her with wide, innocent eyes and calls her “Mommy”… then begins mirroring her every habit. The connection is instant. The tension between her and Shawn, undeniable. Because Shawn isn’t just her new boss—he’s the man from her one unforgettable night eight years ago, the stranger who vanished before dawn, leaving behind nothing but memories and heartbreak. Rennie swore she’d never fall for him again. But under the same roof, every stolen glance and forbidden touch reignites the desire she thought she’d buried for good. Her fragile new beginning shatters when Shawn’s glamorous ex-wife suddenly returns, demanding custody of the little girl Rennie has come to love as her own. Just as she prepares to walk away, a devastating secret surfaces— Diane isn’t Shawn’s daughter. She’s Rennie’s. Now Rennie must fight for the child she never knew was hers and face the hardest choice of her life: between the man who broke her heart and the one who might finally mend it.

My wife just had a baby with her lover, and she brought both father and daughter straight into our home. As her husband, I was expected to wait on her during her confinement. However, I didn’t throw a tantrum this time. Instead, I tied on an apron, cooked for her, and even helped that man carry his luggage into the master bedroom. From that day on, I became the biggest joke in our social circle. I was a grown man turned servant, catering to a freeloading pretty boy and changing diapers for my own illegitimate daughter. Kim loved flaunting my obedience to her friends. “Dylan loves me so much, he’ll do anything as long as I don’t divorce him.” Her lover mocked me at every turn, treating me like a servant and making me wash the sheets he and my wife used. Everyone assumed I was hopelessly in love with Kim, having endured eighteen years of humiliation for a chance at her heart. However, I knew the truth. I was waiting for the day the child turned eighteen. Then, thirty percent of Kim’s Foster Group stock would finally be mine.