Oops, My Broke Baby Daddy Is Now My New Boss?!

At Nocturne Bar, the air was saturated with the mingled aromas of premium alcohol and perfume.

Madelynn Collins moved carefully through the crowded bar, carrying a large tray covered with brightly colored cocktails.

Her heels disappeared slightly into the thick carpet. The bar's black uniform hugged her slender, almost fragile body.

Her heavy makeup couldn't completely cover how breathtakingly beautiful she was. It also failed to disguise the shadows beneath her eyes or the profound fatigue etched across her face.

She threaded her way between the loud, carefree customers, heading toward the Vault.

The Vault was Nocturne's most prestigious VIP suite. A single bottle of liquor consumed there could cost more than what Madelynn earned in an entire year. If she accidentally broke one, there was no way she could afford to repay it.

She opened the door and immediately stopped. Her feet seemed to lock in place.

Her heart seemed to stop beating.

At the center of the main sofa sat a man surrounded by a group of people eagerly trying to please him. Six years had passed, but Madelynn would have recognized that profile anywhere.

Kristopher Harrison.

Six years.

The Kristopher she remembered was the brilliant scholarship student with a cold personality, strikingly handsome features, and a wardrobe of worn, faded shirts. Sitting before her now was a commanding man who exuded power, impeccably dressed in a perfectly made dark-gray suit.

Madelynn's immediate reaction was to leave. Kristopher was the one she least wanted to encounter, and she had no place standing before him now.

"Stop! Raise your head."

Kristopher's low, unnervingly calm voice stopped her in her tracks, carrying an authority she couldn't bring herself to resist.

Her legs suddenly became useless. She couldn't take another step.

Without warning, her mind returned to a night six years earlier-the graduation celebration.

She could still see the dazzling ballroom. She could still remember herself standing before everyone and throwing a glass of red wine directly into Kristopher's face. "It was only a game, Kristopher. I never loved you."

At the time, he had been a struggling business student, surviving on a full scholarship while juggling three part-time jobs just to get by.

Madelynn, meanwhile, had been the spoiled, privileged heiress of the Collins family. Everyone had watched her chase and cast him aside.

Now, six years later, things were different.

Fear and shame surged through Madelynn at the same time.

"Kristopher, is something wrong?" the elegantly dressed woman sitting beside Kristopher asked. Her eyes drifted toward Madelynn with curiosity. "Do you know her?"

Kristopher turned toward Madelynn slowly, his eyes passing over her without the slightest trace of emotion, as though she were nothing more than an insignificant object in the room.

A small, mocking laugh came from him, his voice carrying disdain.

"Why would I know a woman like her?"

The woman beside him looked at the waitress uniform Madelynn wore. Her expression immediately turned dismissive. "Of course. I was reading too much into it. There's no way you would know a waitress."

Madelynn pressed her teeth into her lower lip so hard that the metallic taste of blood spread across her tongue. She finally lowered her eyes, turned around, and walked out. Her legs shook beneath her, threatening to collapse with every step.

She had never imagined that she would cross paths with Kristopher again after six years.

Now, all she wanted was to make sure it never happened again.

At last, after what seemed like an endless shift, Madelynn was finally free to leave. She headed down a dark, grimy street toward the run-down apartment where she lived.

Madelynn slipped the key into the lock and twisted it open.

It had barely swung open before the foul combination of old liquor and cheap cigarette smoke hit her.

She hadn't even stepped through the doorway when a large, calloused hand lunged out, seized her by the hair, and violently dragged her inside.

The door slammed shut behind her.

"Where is it? Where's the money you earned today?" Her husband, Nicholas Smith, stood over her in the dim light, his drunken face twisted with anger as his bloodshot eyes bored into her.

Pain shot through Madelynn's scalp, and tears immediately filled her eyes.

She raised both hands to protect her head and said in a trembling voice, "Tonight... it was slow. I barely made anything from tips. This is everything I have."

With trembling hands, she hurriedly searched her pocket and pulled out a handful of crumpled bills and loose change.

Nicholas ripped the cash from her hands and counted it, his expression hardening with anger. "You expect me to believe this is everything you made? Are you hiding money from me again? Hmm?"

Before she could answer, his hand struck her across the face.

Madelynn cried out and dropped to the floor, instinctively curling herself into a tight ball. She covered her head and tried to protect herself.

His fists and feet struck her arms, back, and legs again and again. Every impact sent another wave of pain through her body. She clenched her teeth, deciding she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of hearing her beg.

When Nicholas reached for the last bundle of cash on the nightstand, Madelynn suddenly lunged forward and grabbed onto his pant leg.

"That's for Emily's medical treatment," she pleaded, her voice breaking. "Please, you can't take that money..."

The moment she mentioned her daughter, Emily Collins, Nicholas's expression became vicious, and he kicked Madelynn away from him. "Don't ever mention that little bastard to me! Whether she lives or dies has nothing to do with me!"

Emily's father... was Kristopher.

It had been nothing more than a single night of recklessness, a mistake born from too much alcohol.

After the graduation celebration, Madelynn had wiped away every trace of him from her life. She left school behind, making sure Kristopher would never find her again.

She had already been drowning under the weight of her family's downfall when she found out she was pregnant. With no one to rely on, she crossed paths with Nicholas, a man six years older than her.

Her family had just collapsed into bankruptcy. Her father had been sent to prison, while her mother had been admitted to Areswood Behavioral Health Center.

Yet Nicholas never once viewed her pregnancy as a burden. Instead, he surrounded her with tenderness and care, filling her days with affection. In the end, she fell for his charm and agreed to become his wife.

It was only after the wedding that Madelynn discovered the truth-Nicholas was impotent.

He couldn't have sex with her.

She had tried to accept it, convincing herself it didn't matter. But as the years passed, she slowly realized his impotence had poisoned something deep within him.

The frustration consumed him. He became violent, fell into a gambling addiction, and turned every ounce of his anger and resentment toward her.

Little by little, he had drained away nearly all of her savings, leaving her with barely anything.

Then Emily was diagnosed with a congenital heart defect and needed a costly surgery. Madelynn was desperate for money.

She refused to let Nicholas take the last bit of savings she had left.

That was why she had finally asked for a divorce.

"You want a divorce? You fucking slut! You and that little bastard are going to spend the rest of your lives serving me. Did you really think you could just run away? Keep dreaming."

The next second, a sharp slap struck Madelynn across the face.

Before she could even react, her phone suddenly rang.

No sooner had she answered than a frantic voice burst through the phone. "Ms. Collins, you need to come to the hospital right away. Your daughter's condition has suddenly gotten worse!"

...

The scent of disinfectant lingered throughout the corridors of Areswood Children's Hospital, sinking into every corner of the building.

Inside the doctor's office, Madelynn sat rigidly in her chair, the bruise at the corner of her lips already darkening. Her hands were balled into fists so tightly that her knuckles had turned pale, and a faint tremor ran through her entire body.

"Ms. Collins, Emily's treatment can't be delayed any longer."

Dr. Kevin Walsh pushed his glasses higher on his nose. His voice remained soft, but the seriousness behind his words was impossible to miss.

"At this stage, the hole in her heart isn't causing the worst-case damage yet. However, the strain will continue to build as she gets older. This case of pneumonia was a warning sign. We need to arrange the surgery as soon as possible. If something like this happens again, she may not be as lucky next time."

Madelynn's chest tightened, her throat so parched that not even a single word would come out.

She already knew. Every day felt like she was balancing on the edge of a cliff, one wrong step away from losing everything.

No one was more afraid than she was.

"Dr. Walsh... can you tell me how much the surgery will cost?"

"For the procedure itself, along with the necessary follow-up treatment, you'll need at least one hundred and fifty thousand dollars." Kevin studied her pale, hollowed-out face, and a trace of sympathy crossed his expression. He let out a quiet sigh before speaking. "You understand the hospital's policy. We can't arrange the surgery until the payment has been secured. I know your situation isn't easy, but... you'll have to find a way."

The amount hit Madelynn like a punch to the gut.

With Emily's condition worsening, she found herself spending nearly every day at the hospital. A normal job was impossible to maintain, so she clung to every small opportunity that came her way.

Her mornings disappeared behind the counter of a convenience store, while her nights were spent working promotions at a bar. In between, she endured her husband's endless demands for money and the violence that followed when she couldn't provide it.

To Madelynn, one hundred fifty thousand dollars wasn't just expensive-it was an unreachable figure.

She had already emptied every bit of savings she had, even selling the few pieces of jewelry she owned, all to pay for Emily's examinations and early treatments.

Yet the cost of surgery still loomed over her like an enormous weight, a mountain she had no way to climb.

Madelynn stumbled out of the doctor's office, her mind numb and her steps unsteady. She pressed herself against the corridor wall, fighting to keep her shaking legs from giving out beneath her.

A crushing wave of hopelessness surged through her, swallowing every bit of strength she had left.

Emily was only four years old. Her little girl had barely begun to live.

"Well, look who I found. Madelynn, you filthy slut! You really thought you could hide from me? You've got money for that brat's treatment, haven't you?"

Nicholas's furious bellow ripped through the hallway, making nearby nurses and families stop in their tracks and turn to look.

He charged down toward her, his features twisted with hostility. The stench of cheap alcohol clung to him, a clear reminder of the drinking he had done the night before.

"Where the fuck is the money? Did you hide it from me, you bitch? Hand it over!" Nicholas's fingers clamped around Madelynn's wrist, his grip so brutal that she felt like the bones beneath his hand might splinter. Flecks of spit flew from his mouth, some of them nearly landing on her. "That little bastard isn't worth saving. Let her die! Give me the money. I can win it all back, and then we'll have plenty more!"

"Get your hands off me! Have you lost your mind? We're in a hospital!" Madelynn fought against his hold, her cheeks burning with humiliation and panic. "That money is for Emily! It's the only thing that can save her!"

"Save her? Her life isn't worth a single cent! My gambling debts are the real problem here!" Nicholas's eyes were swollen and red, his expression warped by anger and desperation. He lifted his hand again, preparing to hit her. "You still want to fight me over that money? Fine. Maybe another beating will change your mind!"

Madelynn shut her eyes tight and curled in on herself, her shoulders instinctively rising as she braced for the blow she had suffered countless times before.

Several people nearby sucked in a breath, but not a single person stepped forward. Nicholas was a raging drunk, the kind of man who would lash out at anyone who dared get in his way.

Yet the impact Madelynn braced for never arrived.

A strong, slender hand suddenly intercepted Nicholas's falling wrist, stopping it midair with a grip like steel. Long fingers wrapped around him with effortless strength, every line of the hand sharp and refined.

"Who the fuck do you think you are, grabbing me? Let go!" Nicholas's face turned bright red as he fought against the restraint, but no matter how hard he struggled, he couldn't free himself.

The sudden change left Madelynn stunned. Slowly, she opened her eyes and followed the graceful curve of that hand upward.

The edge of a deep charcoal suit came into view first, a platinum cufflink glinting beneath the hospital lights.

Her gaze moved upward, tracing the sharp lines of a sculpted jaw, the thin lips pressed into a firm line, and finally those unfathomable eyes that seemed impossible to read.

It was none other than Kristopher-the man she had disappeared from six years ago, the same man she had somehow crossed paths with twice in just two days.

And every time, he had found her at her lowest, witnessing a version of her that was more broken and humiliating than the last.

She had no idea when he arrived. The moment she saw him, the memory of a night from six years ago came rushing back.

Back then, he had stood before her in the exact same way, shielding her from danger like a knight who had appeared just in time to save her from thugs.

Six years had passed. So much had changed. Yet somehow, nothing had changed at all.

Her vision slowly blurred as tears gathered in Madelynn's eyes.

"Who the hell do you think you are? Stay out of this!" Nicholas snarled, twisting his arm in a desperate attempt to break free.

Kristopher didn't bother answering. He simply tightened his grip and twisted Nicholas's wrist.

A scream tore from Nicholas as a brutal wave of pain surged through him, making him feel like his bones were about to break apart.

Before he could even react, two towering men dressed in black suits appeared behind Kristopher. They grabbed Nicholas by both arms and pulled him away from Madelynn without saying a word.

The moment Madelynn saw Kristopher standing there, her heartbeat spiraled out of control.

She couldn't tell what overwhelmed her more-relief that someone had saved her, or the shame of being seen in such a humiliating state. Her lips parted, but no sound escaped.

Kristopher, however, acted as though she wasn't there.

Without sparing her even a passing glance, he slipped a hand into his suit jacket and pulled out a pristine white silk handkerchief. Then, with deliberate precision, he began wiping the hand that had just touched Nicholas.

He moved from fingertips to wrist with meticulous care, leaving no spot unattended, as though trying to scrub away something utterly repulsive.

Once he finished, he casually discarded the used silk in the nearest trash can.

For several seconds, Madelynn could only stand there, completely stunned.

The blatant dismissal behind that simple gesture spoke louder than any words, making the distance between them impossible to ignore.

Before Madelynn could recover, a bright, cheerful voice suddenly rang out. "Kristopher, there you are! I've been searching everywhere for you..."

A young woman in an elegant champagne-colored suit dress walked toward them with graceful steps before wrapping her arm around Kristopher's with familiar ease.

"Once my checkup is finished, why don't we go have dinner at that new restaurant downtown?"

Her makeup was immaculate, and the smile she wore was sweet enough to seem almost perfect.

Madelynn instantly recognized her-Izabella Davis, the actress who had been dominating headlines recently.

Could she be... Kristopher's girlfriend?

Only then did Izabella's attention shift to Madelynn, her gaze pausing on her face for a brief moment. "Oh, aren't you the server from last night?"

The sweet smile on her lips remained as she turned back to Kristopher, her voice slipping into a slightly spoiled, almost possessive tone. "Kristopher, you know her?"

Kristopher didn't stop her from holding onto his arm. "No. A madman attacked someone just now. I didn't want him to scare you."

Without another word, he wrapped an arm around Izabella's shoulders and led her away.

He never once glanced back at Madelynn.

Within moments, the hospital corridor returned to its former silence, as though nothing had ever taken place.

Madelynn remained frozen in place, the spots where Nicholas had gripped her still aching with a lingering, dull pain.

Her gaze lingered on Kristopher's disappearing figure, a bitter, self-deprecating smile slowly forming at the corner of her mouth.

So... this was the truth of it.

He hadn't stepped in because of her. He had only acted because he feared that the "madman" might scare Izabella-the woman he was going out of his way to protect.

As for her... Whether she was hurt, humiliated, or left to suffer, none of it had anything to do with him anymore.

Her so‑called "game" six years ago-the one that had left his heart shattered-had probably faded into nothing but a distant memory for him.

Maybe he didn't even remember her at all.

And if he did, the only things left in his mind were likely disgust and contempt.

They no longer belonged to the same world.

He existed in a world so far beyond hers that even the mere contact with her husband had been enough to disgust him.

She was nothing more than a bar waitress struggling beneath the weight of her daughter's medical expenses, a woman too powerless and afraid to fight back against the cruelty she suffered every day.

So this was how it was.

Sooner or later, every debt came due-with interest, with suffering, with a price too painful to bear.

Above the restaurant floor, crystal chandeliers scattered their glow like shards of shattered diamonds. Kristopher reclined in his chair, his fingers lazily turning the wine glass in slow circles.

Not a single drop had touched his lips.

Across from him, Izabella spoke enthusiastically, sharing her thoughts on the restaurant's famous chef with a bright smile.

The backless dress she wore revealed just enough elegance, while her flawless makeup, perfectly styled hair, and carefully manicured nails completed the look.

She was beautiful in a way that naturally drew attention-the type of woman who made people glance twice without even realizing it.

But Kristopher never once looked at her.

His eyes had already wandered elsewhere, passing over Izabella's shoulder and settling on the view outside the towering glass windows. Beyond them was nothing but the distant cityscape, but his expression grew distant, as if his mind had drifted somewhere far away.

"This restaurant has been ranked the best in Athiebia for three consecutive years. There was even a time when the reservation list was backed up for more than half a year. Kristopher?"

No answer came. For two full seconds, the only sound was the quiet hum of the restaurant.

"Yeah." Only then did Kristopher finally give a response.

The smile on Izabella's face faltered for an instant before she quickly recovered.

"Kristopher." Her voice softened as she picked up a spoonful of food and brought it toward him. "Is something wrong? Does it not suit your taste? Try this one."

Kristopher's attention shifted back to her in an instant.

The moment their eyes met, a shiver ran through Izabella. She quickly withdrew her hand.

The expression in his eyes was unlike anything she had seen before.

It wasn't simple detachment or his usual indifference. It was a silent warning that she had gone too far.

"I have something to do." Kristopher placed his wine glass on the table, wiped the corner of his lips, then stood. "Enjoy your food."

Izabella's smile never faltered. "Of course. If you have something important to take care of, I won't hold you back."

She watched him disappear without hesitation, a brief trace of displeasure flashing across her face.

Their relationship had always been nothing more than a carefully arranged public image.

Kristopher was a rising tech mogul, while she was a top-tier actress constantly surrounded by attention. Both of them had more admirers and unwanted pursuits than they knew what to do with.

That was precisely why they had signed the agreement-to use each other as a shield against the endless approaches from others.

Normally, Kristopher kept a respectful but distant attitude toward her. He was so guarded that he would not even shake her hand without gloves. Yet today, everything had changed. He had actually placed an arm around her, accepted her invitation to dinner, and allowed her to hold onto his arm.

For once, she had believed their little arrangement was turning into something real-that he was finally starting to feel something for her. Yet the second they sat down at the table, he returned to the same cold, detached man he had always been.

What had caused such a sudden shift?

Could it have something to do with that server?

This was the second time it had happened. Kristopher acted distant toward that woman on the surface, but his actions revealed something else entirely. Whatever he felt for her was far more complicated than simple indifference.

Izabella could still picture her clearly-a thin, exhausted woman with a bruise at the corner of her mouth, dressed in nothing but faded, shabby clothes.

The sight had stirred nothing in Izabella except disdain.

She was nothing more than a bar server. Someone like that had no chance of ever standing on the same level as Izabella.

A cold glint passed through her eyes before she closed them, hiding the malice that had surfaced on her face.