Chapter 2
On Saturday, sunlight streamed through the windows of the dining room at Sunshine Resort, filling the air with the fragrant essence of Maria's Cuban spices.
I sat at our family table, but everything felt changed.
"Crystal, you must try Maria's signature lobster," Dad beamed, personally serving her with the warmth he reserved for honored guests. "This recipe has been in our family for three generations."
Crystal accepted the plate gracefully, but her eyes swept the dining room with calculated interest. "Carlos, this place is absolutely stunning. Jake told me you built this resort from nothing?"
"That's right," Dad's chest swelled with pride. "When Maria and I arrived from Cuba, we had fifty dollars and a dream."
I noticed Crystal's sudden laser focus, as if every detail was being catalogued and filed away.
"And when did Jake join the family?" Crystal's voice dripped honey, but something about her tone made my skin crawl. "He must feel such a deep connection to the family."
The atmosphere at the table shifted imperceptibly.
"Jake..." Dad took a deep breath, his expression growing complex with memory. "When we first saw him at the refugee center, he was so small, so scared. But there was something special in his eyes."
"Oh Jake," Crystal turned to my brother, her face a mask of sympathy. "You must have felt so lost. Thank God you found such a loving family to take you in."
"We didn't 'take him in,'" Mom's voice cut sharp as broken glass. "He became our son, completely and forever."
I caught the flicker of complex emotion in Jake's eyes—gratitude mixed with something indefinable and tense.
"I've always been grateful for this family's... generosity," Jake said, his voice slightly trembling.
Crystal's lips curved in what could barely be called a smile, like a cat that had cornered its prey.
After dinner, only Jake and Crystal remained on the oceanfront terrace. I lingered in the main room, pretending to clear dishes while straining to catch their conversation.
"You've done so much for this family business, Jake," Crystal's voice carried clearly on the night breeze. "They must really value your contribution."
"Sometimes I wonder," Jake's response made my heart sink. "Sometimes I feel like they see me as just... someone they helped."
"Blood runs deep in family businesses," Crystal said. "But your dedication proves you belong here more than anyone."
"Do you really think so?" Jake's voice held desperate hunger. "Sometimes I feel like I'm always proving myself."
My hands clenched the dinner plates until my knuckles went white. Crystal was systematically dismantling Jake's security, and he was completely blind to it.
"Of course," Crystal continued her toxic campaign. "Look at Sophia—she gets everything handed to her without lifting a finger. And you? You have to prove your worth every single day. Is that fair?"
The plate clattered from my suddenly nerveless fingers.
At 10 PM, I returned to the resort office to retrieve forgotten coursework. The moment I pushed open the door, my blood turned to ice.
Crystal stood at the filing cabinet, her phone camera aimed at our VIP client lists.
"What are you doing with those files?" I asked.
Crystal spun around, face draining of color, nearly dropping her phone. "Oh! You scared me. Jake asked me to help organize some paperwork."
"Those are confidential client lists," I advanced on her step by step. "Jake wouldn't ask you to handle them."
"Maybe you don't know your brother as well as you think," Crystal quickly pocketed her phone, panic flashing in her eyes. "He trusts me with important things."
I scanned the office, noting several crucial documents had been moved. This was no coincidence.
"Trust?" I laughed coldly. "Or manipulation?"
For a split second, Crystal's mask slipped, revealing the ice-cold predator beneath. "Watch your words, Sophia. You might be overestimating your importance in this family."
With that, she left.
As I came back, I caught a glimpse of my parents engaged in a private conversation.
"That girl asks too many questions about Jake's past," Mom whispered. "It makes me uncomfortable."
"Jake has seemed different lately," Dad's voice carried heavy concern. "More... anxious about his place in the family."
"Maybe we should have another conversation with him about the adoption," Mom sighed. "Make sure he knows nothing has changed."
"Thirty-five years, and he still carries that uncertainty," Dad's words shattered my heart. "Some wounds never fully heal."
I sat in the darkness, fists clenched. Crystal was weaponizing Jake's deepest vulnerabilities.
At midnight, I sat by my bedroom window, connecting the evening's disturbing observations.
Crystal's excessive interest in the adoption history, her access to business documents, her emotional manipulation of Jake—none of this was coincidental. Her earlier comments about "bloodline" seemed like calculated strategy.
"She's not just a gold-digger," I told my reflection in the dark window. "She's studying us, learning our weaknesses."
"Jake's adoption isn't ancient history to her—it's ammunition."
If she wanted to play games with our family, she'd picked the wrong opponent.
At 7 AM the next morning, I watched from my window as Crystal made a phone call in the parking lot. Her expression was deadly serious, the sweet mask completely abandoned.
"...the family dynamics are exactly as expected..." I caught fragments through the glass. "...the adopted son has serious insecurity issues... yes, I can work with that..."
When the call ended, Crystal looked up toward the building and instantly transformed back into the smiling girlfriend, waving cheerfully at Jake.
"Thanks for such a wonderful weekend, honey! Your family is amazing!"
As Crystal's car disappeared down the palm-lined drive, I noticed something glinting on the asphalt. I ran downstairs and picked up a business card that had fallen from her purse.
"Oceanfront Hospitality Group - Strategic Acquisitions."
In that moment, I realized Jake's love life might be just the beginning of a much larger conspiracy. Our Martinez family stood at the center of a war we weren't even prepared to fight.