Increasingly leery, Kaitlin’s family pressured Lucas to use a new video chat program to communicate both ways. Suddenly, Lucas disappeared.

The next day, a young woman who had been Kevin’s girlfriend contacted Kaitlin with alarming news: She learned that Lucas had suffered a seizure in Spain.

But the girls made a key discovery: Lucas and Kevin shared the same phone number.

Convinced Lucas was fake, Masters turned to a friend, Miami-Dade prosecutor Christine Zahralban, whose office launched a probe. Investigators reviewed phone and business records and interviewed victims.

Prosecutors had probable cause after one underage girl said Kevin once directed her to a porn site.

Meanwhile, Kaitlin confronted Lucas via text: “Who are you?”

The suspect called, insisting he was indeed Lucas, but that he was a poor Miami boy. “I really wanted to believe him. I thought I was in love,” Kaitlin said.

Relieved, Kaitlin made a critical slip: She asked Lucas to call and reassure her mother, who had complained to authorities.

Within minutes, the blog and the Facebook pages associated with the “San Roman” family vanished.

Later that day, Miami-Dade prosecutors called Kaitlin and Masters in for a meeting. Suddenly, as they sat in their office, Lucas called Masters.

She immediately confronted him. He stammered, answering cryptically, refusing to reveal his real name. Zahralban, based on the state’s probe, scribbled questions down on yellow sticky notes.

“What company are you president of? What is the connection to the company, Jardines de Confucio?”

Prosecutors handed her another question. “Who is Cindy Choi?” Masters asked.

Lucas paused. “That’s me.”

The revelation steamrolled Masters. “You’re a f**king girl?!” she yelled.

Kaitlin crumpled to the ground, gagging.

Doral woman

Kevin and Lucas San Roman were actually Cindy Choi, 28, a Chinese restaurant owner living in a gated community in Doral.

In a dramatic phone call, Masters pressed for answers. Choi claimed she was confused about her sexual identity and was trying to “help” the girls, some of whom had relatives affected by cancer, Masters recalled.

At first, Choi seems an unlikely person to target teens on the Internet.

She and her family, of Colombian and Chinese descent, own three restaurants in Miami-Dade — including Coconut Grove’s Confucio Express, where “Lucas” once treated the Masters family to a meal.

Her brother, reached at his home in Doral, refused to allow Choi to speak to The Miami Herald. She did not respond to repeated calls, e-mails and text messages.

Choi’s own personal Facebook page reveals she kept her identities mostly separate, with occasional posts about cancer causes, and hundreds of photos: family cruises; concerts; restaurant meals.

But Choi also posted or texted out dozens of photos and videos of her business partner’s adorable infant son — the same photos “Lucas” posted of a purported cousin named “Tommy.” The boys’ parents told The Herald that Choi frequently babysat the child, and they had no idea their son appeared on fake Facebook pages.

Choi also posted photos of the dying cousin, “Katy” — images stolen from an old blog maintained by the parents of a Maine girl who died of a brain tumor in 2004.