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Twenty Years a Shadow : Reclaiming Power from The Morano Ashes Novel Cover

Twenty Years a Shadow : Reclaiming Power from The Morano Ashes

Silvia spent two decades as a servant within the Morano crime syndicate, the very empire she gifted to her husband, Rafael. When her own children help him steal her father's heirloom ring to crown his mistress, Annastasia, as the new matriarch, the ultimate betrayal is complete. Driven by vengeance, Silvia calls in a fifteen-year debt from Don Antonio Bianchi, the Moranos' fiercest enemy. Demanding the role of Bianchi Consigliere, she prepares to destroy those who discarded her.
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Chapter 4

Silvia Morano

At precisely 9:00 a.m., I slipped back into my house through the backyard dog door and went straight to the secret room. With George’s help, I cleared out everything I’d hidden there: the large books, files, important letters, and my father’s belongings.

Next, I headed to Rafael’s study to find the painting he’d stolen from Giorgino & Bianchi. My hunch was right—Rafael would never keep such a large, awkward painting intact. I discovered it rolled up and stashed inside a golf bag in his storage cabinet.

“Th-this!”

George’s eyes widened as he realized he was holding the bag filled with gold bars and bonds—now replaced by worthless counterfeits—from the safe. Rafael had stored them carefully, but over twenty years, I’d learned his habit of hiding valuables he loved to flaunt.

“Get it to a safe place—now!” I gave George the address.

“But what about you, Ma’am?” George protested. “Consigliere Anna’s already on her way. If she finds you here—”

“I never planned to hide from her.”

Once George was safely gone, I walked into the kitchen—my companion for two decades.

I slipped our signed divorce papers under Rafael's favorite placemat.

My hands ached to cook here one last time. Today, before leaving forever, I’d prepare a final meal for a special guest.

“Silvia?”

Annastasia Monroe stood in the doorway, arms crossed, staring me down.

“Didn’t you call the guards?”

I asked, placing sweet and sour shrimp—Anna’s favorite—on the dining table.

“How can you come?” she asked.

I remembered vividly, when Rafael once ordered this dish delivered to Headquarters. When he requested two portions, I’d foolishly thought we’d share it while he handled Morano business. Instead, I watched him enjoy it with Anna. Consigliere Anna.

“Sweet and sour shrimp for Anna! Let’s welcome our new Consigliere!”

He’d tossed bills at me afterward.

“Take it—for your cab fare.”

At that moment, my self-esteem was trampled and shattered when Rafael brought Anna into his room and locked the door before all the Morano members, who looked at me with pity.

My calls went unanswered, my words were ignored, and I was alienated from the group.

I felt uncomfortable, disrespected, and pitied like some beggar before him every single day. I swallowed all the pain for years.

For twenty years, his cruelty eroded my self-worth. Only today did I finally wake from that delusion.

Now, a second decade later, I served Anna the same dish.

“You… made this for me?” she asked.

I met her gaze and sat calmly. “Sit down, Anna. Consider this our last supper together.”

Her stare intensified—caution and suspicion sharpening her eyes.

“Relax, I won’t poison you.”

Anna didn’t touch her food.

I ate slowly, savoring every bite while studying her. 9/10, I instinctively rated her face and poise.

“What do you really want?” she demanded.

I narrowed my eyes.

“To say goodbye properly.”

She startled before her lips twisted into a smirk. Her laughter echoed through the room.

“Silvia Morano!” she jeered. “You disappoint me! I expected a real fight, but you surrender this easily?” She pocketed the papers, shaking her head. “Rafael and Michael were right—your mafia spirit is dead.”

I nodded, focusing on the last shrimp as I cleared the table. I licked my fingers one by one. Time was running short.

"Whatever you say."

I extended my hand to shake her.

"Congratulations!" I said.

"Now you can have Morano all to yourselves!"

I hurried away, carrying my father's clothes, and drove his beloved car to Bianchi's headquarters to finalize the sale of Morano's two major assets.

**

The next day, I received dozens of messages on my phone.

Among them was a message from George containing surveillance camera footage from Morano's main headquarters, showing the soldaty celebrating their newlyweds arrival.

I realize that it is not the Morano people and Morano assets physically that I must defend.

The Morano I want is the spirit, loyalty, and unwavering commitment that my father, Don Oliver, fought for over the centuries.

Now, I will pursue my own Morano.

I put on my all-black outfit and my leather jacket, which cost hundreds of thousands of dollars, and made me look as beautiful as possible.

[I’ve sent you the proceeds from the sale, Silvia dear! Have fun in Mexico and Europe!]

Don Antonio’s message made me smile, and I was ready to welcome the warm smiles of our former alliance members.

I packed my things and went to meet George immediately.

“Ma’am!”

At the same time, Michael’s calls came in one after another, disturbing me.

“Mom, are you insane?” he barked at me like a dog.

But I just smiled when I heard his scream now.

"Calm down, you must relax ... like Consigliere Anna always does, Michael!" I said sarcastically.

"Don't cause trouble, and take responsibility for what happens to Morano, now!" Michael said emphatically.

I laughed.

The sound of knives whizzing and gunshots in the background sounded like classical music to me.

"Michael! Tell your mother to get here quickly!"

I smiled slightly when I heard Rafael shout.

"As both of you always said..." I whispered. "I'm no longer part of Morano, so take care of your own responsibilities!"

After saying that, I hung up the phone without hesitation, took out the SIM card, and folded it in half.

The plane took off, looking at the beautiful scenery from the window, my mood suddenly brightened - goodbye, the family that didn't love me.

From now on, I will only be my own light, I want to take back everything. Take back everything that belongs to my family.

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