Twenty Years a Shadow : Reclaiming Power from The Morano Ashes

Silvia Morano.

“Anna!” Milan shouted.

I spun toward the front door, startled. I hadn’t even seen her yet, but I already recognized the voice of the woman who’d just infuriated me moments before.

“Good morning, Don Rafael!”

Anna Monroe, the consigliere Rafael appointed to replace John Papita, greeted him. Rafael always introduced this woman—part of his old crew, the Rizzo group—as some distant relative with killer negotiation skills and street-smart solutions.

My youngest son wrapped Anna in a warm hug, threw an arm around her shoulder, and steered her toward the dining room like she belonged there.

“Morning, Anna! You look amazing today!” Michael beamed. He hugged her too, planting a kiss on her cheek like she was blood family.

Not just my kids. Rafael did the same.

“What brings you by so early?” My husband’s voice was practically gentle.

“Just reminding Don Rafael about the critical meeting today—territory expansion and the Giorgino Alliance pulling out.”

My stomach dropped at Consiglier Anna’s words.

“You’ve already decided on replacing a Giorgino Alliance member?”

The question burst out before I could stop it. I couldn’t believe they’d make a call that huge without even consulting me.

“Jesus! Stop acting like you know everything and butting in!” Michael yelled.

Meanwhile, Anna ducked her head meekly toward me, putting on this show of being intimidated and respectful. Rafael, of course, did the opposite. He took Anna’s hand and pulled her right to our family table.

“Why? If I replacing a Giorgino member?”

I locked eyes with him and stepped closer.

“Replacing someone in an alliance that big, that crucial? That’s not a game, Don Rafael! Pick wrong, and Morano could be finished!”

“Silvia!” Rafael cut me off. “I’m the Don of Morano. Not you!” He jabbed a finger angrily toward my face.

“Please don’t worry, Madam,” Anna interjected smoothly, oozing confidence. “Everything’s handled. I take full responsibility for Don Rafael’s decisions.”

I shifted my glare to her. But my husband and sons instantly circled the wagons around Anna, turning on me.

“Don’t start your drama again, Silvia!” Rafael snapped.

Michael and Milan shot me disgusted looks, shaking their heads. Michael sighed loudly and slammed his hand on the table.

“Can’t you just not ruin my day? I’m sick of your constant drama! Always angry, always offended, always demanding respect. How am I supposed to respect you when you act like this?” He shoved his chair back. Milan followed, looking equally pissed.

“Michael! Milan! Sit down!” Rafael ordered.

“No way!” Michael shot back, glaring at his father, who seemed barely in control.

“Can’t you just get rid of her?” My eldest son pointed straight at me.

“Yeah, Dad! It’s not like it’s hard for you!” Milan chimed in.

“Enough!” Rafael roared.

My husband took a deep breath, but I was already breaking down. Sobs wracked my body, my chest tightening like a vise. I couldn’t breathe. My throat burned; my legs turned to jelly. I could barely stay upright. Through blurred vision, I saw Rafael.

“Watch your mouths!” he scolded the boys. “If anyone outside hears that talk, it destroys Morano’s reputation!”

Sounds like he’s defending me, right? But he wasn’t protecting me – his wife, their mother. He was protecting his reputation. Don Rafael Morano’s reputation.

“Enough! Silvia, I’m exhausted by this. Just stop. Accept you’re no longer relevant to the Morano family!” he shouted at me.

“Besides, we’ve got Consigliere Anna now. She helps Dad steer Morano’s future with her modern ideas and practical decisions. She’s the real consigliere, Mom. Not you with your tired, outdated ways.” Michael said coldly.

As if the emotional torture wasn’t enough, Rafael strode over and roughly grabbed my hand. He stared at the symbolic Morano ruler’s ring – my late father’s gift – and started wrenching it off my finger.

“Rafael! What are you doing? Let go!” I screamed.

“Give me the ring!” he commanded.

I yanked my hand back hard. The skin tore, blood welling where the ring bit into my finger. I gasped for air as Rafael signaled his sons. They lunged, grabbing my arms, forcing me to my knees in front of their father.

“This ring is poisoning your mind, Silvia!” Rafael hissed. “Take it off! Give it to Anna!”

“NO!” I roared. I thrashed, breaking free from my sons’ grip.

I’d stayed in the shadows too long. But I was my father built a weapon. My shattered pride ignited, screaming that I would fight back.

“You’ll never get it!”

I screamed, bolting upstairs, desperate to hide the ring.

But Michael’s long legs cut me off. He kicked the door in, grabbed my arm with brutal force – I cried out in pain.

“Michael! Stop! I’m your mother!” My voice was raw, tears streaming again as he dragged me mercilessly toward Rafael’s study.

Inside stood Rafael, Anna, and Milan. They turned. Their stares were ice-cold, predatory. Like wolves ready to tear into prey.

Evil. Cruel.

Rafael knew I’d never harm my own child. So he handed Milan a small dagger.

I shook my head frantically, pleading silently with my youngest son. Don’t.

Michael locked my arms behind my back, yanking my hair so savagely I felt my scalp rip.

“NO, MILAN! DON’T! PLEASE!” I begged.

Milan didn’t hear me. He just grinned, flipping the dagger. He knelt in front of me, eyes menacing.

“You’re nothing but trouble, Mother!”

He slashed the blade across my cheek and neck.

I growled, swallowing the scream, enduring the searing physical pain and the deeper agony in my soul. My tears meant nothing to them. Milan grabbed my bleeding hand and brutally ripped the ring off my finger. He handed it to Rafael.

“Good job, son!” Rafael praised, clapping Milan’s shoulder, beaming with satisfaction.

Michael hauled me up and shoved me into a large chair. They stood together – Rafael, Anna, Michael, Milan – like a perfect, happy family.

They smiled, hugging Anna after Rafael pinned my ring onto her finger.

“Congratulations, Consigliere Anna!” Michael crowed. “Or Mom, actually?”

Anna bowed her head demurely, smiling. Then she flicked a glance at me – pure, triumphant satisfaction.

“Thank you. But… shouldn’t we take Mrs. Silvia to the hospital?” Her voice was soft, yet it cut like the knife. “She seems to be in terrible pain.”

“Don’t waste a thought on her, Anna,” Rafael dismissed. “It’s her punishment for standing in Morano’s way.”

They walked out. Left me there. Consciousness started to fade.

***