My Husband Threw Me And Our 3-Day-Old Daughter Onto A Frozen Sidewalk For Not Being A Son, So The Mafia King Covered Us In His Coat And Demanded His Name

Nicholas walked across the marble floor of the courthouse, his long black overcoat sweeping behind him like the robes of an ancient emperor.

Every civilian, security guard, and court officer in the lobby stepped aside, granting the mafia sovereign an undisputed corridor.

He stopped two feet from Daniel, looking down at the cowering man with the cold, detached curiosity one might give an annoying insect.

“You want to hold your daughter, Daniel?” Nicholas asked softly, his baritone voice echoing off the vaulted ceilings.

Daniel began to tremble so violently that his knees audibly clicked together against the marble floor. “M-Mr. Maro... please. I was just talking to my wife—”

“She is not your wife,” Nicholas cut him off, the words landing like lead weights. “The divorce was finalized by the presiding state judge forty-eight hours ago. Ava Sullivan is a completely sovereign woman.”

Nicholas reached into his breast pocket and pulled out the newly stamped birth certificate that our legal team had just processed.

He held the official document before Daniel’s face.

There, printed in bold, embossed state lettering, was my daughter's full legal name:

LILY MARO SULLIVAN

Daniel’s jaw dropped in absolute, paralyzing disbelief. “Maro...? You gave her your family name?”

“She didn't just receive my name, Daniel,” Nicholas said, his eyes flashing with lethal intensity.

“Yesterday afternoon, I executed an official decree of adult legal guardianship and family adoption through the supreme court. Lily is officially recognized under both civil law and syndicate bloodline treaties as my sole legal daughter and primary heir to the Maro estate.”

Daniel let out a choked, suffocated gasp, clutching his head in his hands.

The daughter he had thrown away into the snow because she wasn't a male heir had just inherited the largest private shipping and financial empire in the state of New York.

“You wanted an heir, Daniel,” Nicholas whispered, leaning down until his eyes bored into the core of Daniel’s soul.

“And instead, you handed the greatest treasure in this city straight into my hands. Now, you have exactly sixty seconds to crawl out of this building before my men remove your kneecaps in front of the press.”

Daniel didn't utter another word.

He scrambled to his feet like a terrified animal, slipped on the polished marble, regained his footing, and bolted through the revolving doors into the freezing street, vanishing into the cold city crowd forever.

The courthouse lobby fell into an absolute, respectful silence.

Nicholas turned his gaze toward me, his expression instantly transforming into that profound, breathtaking warmth he only reserved for us.

He walked over, gently pulled the blanket away from Lily’s face, and smiled as our daughter cooed softly, reaching her little hand out to touch his lapel.