If an extended relative politely inquired about my business, Mom would swiftly intercept. “Oh, Alysia’s little apps are fun, but Catalina is the real deal. Saving lives, you know.”
Catalina absorbed this worship effortlessly. “It’s honestly adorable how you play with code all day,” she once smirked over a plate of roasted duck. “I could never. I’m just too bogged down with actual, rigorous science.”
Then came Tyler. He latched onto Catalina two years ago—a slick, aggressive pharmaceutical sales rep who wore cologne that smelled like ambition and deceit. From day one, he seamlessly integrated into the family’s favorite pastime: minimizing my existence.
“So, you’re the app whiz,” he had chuckled, gripping my hand a fraction too hard during our introduction. “Like those little tapping games to keep toddlers quiet at restaurants? Cute. But the real value is in legacy professions. Medicine. That’s a rock-solid bet.”
The memory of his smug face made my jaw clench. I picked up my phone and dialed my oldest friend, Haley. We had survived college together, bonded by shared trauma and late-night diner coffee.
“Tell me you didn’t give them a dime,” she demanded the moment she answered.
“Not a cent,” I replied, staring out at the Fort Worth skyline. “They demanded twenty grand for her final tuition payment. Mom played the poverty card, then insulted my company in the same breath.”
Haley let out a sharp, incredulous laugh. “Alysia, you are the CEO of an eight-figure international company. They’ve mocked it for a decade because acknowledging your self-made empire completely shatters their delusion. Catalina is their engineered star. You were supposed to be the backup generator.”
“They’re acting strange, Haley. Desperate. Dad practically interrogated me at dinner a few months ago about how my LLC is structured. He asked if I had partners, how my liabilities were shielded.”
“That’s not idle curiosity,” Haley warned, her tone dropping an octave. “That’s reconnaissance. You need to lock everything down.”
