José Menendez had always been the kind of man who got everything he wanted. In the palm of his hand, he held newspapers, businesses, partnerships... and women. Even with a devoted wife at home who did everything to please him, he no longer saw her the same way. Love? That had evaporated a long time ago. What remained was a carefully constructed facade to keep the Menendez family’s reputation intact — and José would do anything to uphold it.

That included hiding secrets. And he was great at that.

Frustrated with routine, with marriage, and with a wife who insisted on saving him, José did what frustrated, egotistical men usually do: he looked for someone else. And, by a twist of fate, the “other woman” was none other than his ex-wife. The woman he got involved with while Kitty — his current wife — was still carrying Lyle in her womb.

No one knew. No one but Lyle and Eric.

They knew about the affair. They knew about the secret meetings. They knew too much. And what kept them from telling their mother? The answer was simple: threats. José had them in the palm of his hand, just like everything else. They were trapped. In exchange for their silence, they received privileges, perks, empty promises. But one wrong word, and everything would fall apart. And they knew it.

That afternoon, father and son shared the car. José drove with a cynical smile on his face, pleased with the plan he had devised. They had told Kitty they’d be away for three days, handling business for the company — a learning trip, where José would teach Lyle the path of entrepreneurship.

And she believed it. In reality, they were going to visit Merry, the mistress. Lyle knew. And he hated every second of it. But refusing? Not an option.

"Come on, big boy..." José said with a half-smile when he noticed his son's silence. "Don’t be like that. I promise you’ll have some very pleasant company when we get there..."

José’s laugh was light, almost amused, as if the whole situation was just another casual adventure. Lyle didn’t respond. He kept his eyes on the window, following the lines of the road and the scorching sun, trying to disconnect from reality. He just wanted to be alone. He knew the next few days would be hell.

When they arrived, José parked in front of the house. Before knocking on the door, he shot Lyle a stern look.

"Behave. No rudeness."

Lyle nodded with a weak, fake smile. Seconds later, Merry opened the door. She was younger than Kitty, pretty, well-groomed — one of those women who knew how to maintain a flawless image. She welcomed José with a warm and lingering hug, full of nostalgic laughter and an uncomfortable intimacy. Then she turned to Lyle:

"Oh, is this your boy? He’s grown up so much!" — she exclaimed, hugging him too. Lyle responded with a half-hearted pat on the back, keeping the same rehearsed smile.

Merry led them to the living room. José sat down, relaxed and lively in conversation, while Lyle sank into the cushioned leather armchair, eyes fixed on a distant point on the wall. The laughter of the two adults echoed through the room, like old lovers in a cheesy soap opera. Every second there dragged on.

Then José asked — "So, where’s our girl?"

"Our girl?" Lyle raised an eyebrow, turning his eyes slowly to his father, confused. That phrase slipped out of José’s mouth naturally, as if it was already part of the household vocabulary. "Our girl?" What the hell did he mean by that?

"Ah... you know how she is..." Merry replied with a bored sigh, rolling her eyes. "Upstairs, locked in her room, as always." She stood up casually and walked to the base of the stairs. Then, she raised her voice and called her name.

Lyle shot José a sideways glance, impatient and still puzzled. His father just laughed dismissively, shaking his head as if anticipating something fun. In silence, he turned his eyes to the staircase, eager.

The sound of footsteps began. First light, then more audible, rhythmic. Heels hit the wooden steps with precise rhythm, echoing through the room like a slow, hypnotic beat. Lyle fixed his gaze. He first saw feminine legs descending, and then the full body appeared, revealed step by step.

She was beautiful. Young. Probably the same age as him, and if she wasn’t his sister, he’d use other words to describe her. The kind of beauty that easily turned heads — if she wasn’t... Wait a minute...

Lyle’s expression froze between shock and discomfort. His mouth parted slowly, as if the air had been knocked out of him for a second. His eyes widened, struggling to process what he was seeing. It was like the world had been pulled out from under his feet.

"Haha! Alexa, my daughter!" José exclaimed with theatrical enthusiasm, clapping once. "Finally out of your rabbit hole, huh? Come on, introduce yourself to your brother!"

"My daughter...?" Lyle blinked, stunned. His mind spun with jumbled thoughts, trying to piece together a puzzle he didn’t even know existed.

He had a sister. And no one had ever told him.

"Holy shit..." he muttered to himself, almost inaudibly. The thought echoed inside him like lightning shattering his inner silence.

Fuck.