Myles Sachs ignores a Denver omelet smothered in cheese and happily discusses his latest invention – a life-size, all-digital pinball machine. It’s a very cool toy made by a very smart young man who would like nothing more than to work for Google or Amazon.

But for the past year and for the next decade, such inventions are more about solace; dreams of tech stardom will have to wait.

At 23, Sachs is the oldest living member of his family and is both president of his parents’ property management company and patriarch to his teenage siblings.

On Feb. 9, 2014, his younger brother, Ashton, according to a confession reported in grand jury transcripts, sneaked into his parents’ San Juan Capistrano home. Masked by darkness, Ashton Sachs told detectives, he shot and killed his mother and father, Andra and Brad, fired at one sister and missed, and with a bullet paralyzed his then-8-year-old brother.

Investigators worked the case, but it was a slog. For weeks, Ashton and Myles Sachs, at college when the shootings happened, and their two sisters lived together, bonding in grief. They talked about who could do such a thing and why. They also tried to stop talking of such things, their loss overwhelming, their little brother in the hospital.

When Ashton Sachs, now 21, was arrested and finally confessed, the siblings were devastated. A tight-knit family betrayed by one of their own.

PART 2: Why Myles Sachs took on running a business and raising his siblings.

Their longtime housekeeper stepped up and took over managing the household and other duties. Close family friends quietly helped.

Facing a media feeding frenzy, the kids went silent. They asked others to do the same, agreeing that the only way they could keep it together – survive – was to lock down and concentrate on what was left of their family.

But the bigger the story, the fewer the rules. The sisters, now 16 and 18, and their little brother were treated as collateral damage. More than a year later, stories and TV shows quoting relatives outside the inner circle, neighbors and distant friends continue. And so does public speculation about this very private family. The news show “48 Hours” is working on a piece scheduled to air in September. In March, People magazine joined the fray with a cover story. Its giant headline: “Perfect family, shocking murder.”

TV commentators and writers wonder what led to the shootings. Without answers, they supply their own. A divorce. A drowned baby sister. A bullied father. An angry, distrusting, control-freak mother.

Yes, Myles Sachs confides, it hurts to have your family dissected by strangers. It hurts even more when much of what’s written and said is untrue. To set the record straight, Myles Sachs decided to speak out.

After getting to know me, Sachs for the first time shared the realities of what the media has called a fortune worth tens of millions of dollars, the inner workings of his family, how surviving members are coping and what the future offers.

A deeply thoughtful and extraordinarily mature young man, he acknowledges, “I’ve got a long road ahead.”

At the same time, Myles Sachs already has come a long way since learning his parents were killed and his little brother wounded. Of waiting to fly home – alone – immediately after the shootings, he says, “I was openly crying in the airport. I couldn’t hold it in.”

Of Ashton, who has pleaded not guilty and is in Orange County Central Men’s Jail awaiting trial on two murder charges and two attempted-murder charges, Myles Sachs says he feels his brother died with his parents.

Now, little by little, what’s left of the Sachs family is learning to live with the tragedies while moving forward.

HALCYON DAYS

Myles settles on a couch at a friend’s home. He doesn’t fidget as he did early on, during our first meeting.

He’s a quick learner and displays an uncanny and unexpected confidence. After more than a year spent dodging the spotlight, Myles also comes equipped with a confidant for emotional support.

Understand, Myles without hesitation dropped out of college to take on raising his siblings so they could go to college.

Some background: Andra and Brad Sachs met at a computer trade show. Brad graduated from San Clemente High School, loved to surf and had a passion for drums. Andra graduated from Cal State Long Beach with a business degree and had a company in Westminster called Minority Electronics that sold semiconductors.

Over time, they got involved in a potpourri of businesses ranging from Plug In Solutions, an outfit that converted hybrid cars to plug-in hybrid cars, to a company called Flashcom, an Internet service provider. But what Myles Sachs remembers of those early years is how much his family moved.

“Mom was not one to sit still,” he smiles. “She was habitually moving every three to five years.”

Hermosa Beach, Palos Verdes, Huntington Beach, Newport Beach.

When the family lived in Huntington Harbour, Sachs was preschool age. He recalls his first memories as good – heck, better than good.

The family lived in a 5,400-square-foot waterfront home. Mom, dad, Ashton and his oldest sister loved puttering around in a small boat, watching sunsets, checking other boats.

His parents worked a lot, he remembers, and threw catered parties for clients that included live bands and blackjack tables. For a little boy, the parties were glamorous, exciting.

Mom and dad loved family gatherings, traveling to Maui or taking their children on RV trips up the coast. Myles’ eyes sparkle as he remembers the family driving all the way to northern Oregon, where they visited the Tillamook Cheese Factory. To this day, Sachs carries a special love for Tillamook cheese.

When I ask about where they camped, Sachs chuckles. Despite the RV, mom’s idea of camping meant a hotel and a real bed.

“We had a lot of fun,” Sachs says, grinning. “I wouldn’t give up those days for anything.”

A MOTHER’S LOVE

But on April 28, 1999, when Sachs was 8 years old, the world turned. While under the care of a nanny, his baby sister, Sabrina, just 16 months old, drowned in the family pool.

“My parents were devastated,” Sachs softly confides. For a moment, he looks straight ahead, silent.

Five months later, Flashcom investors removed Andra Sachs from the company, and Brad joined them. “She was locked out of her own building, her own company,” Myles Sachs allows of the woman he looked up to, who he knew as powerful. Again, he pauses to gather his thoughts.

Eventually, Andra was compensated $9 million, which remains involved in litigation to this day.

Divorce papers followed. Dad accused mom of being unbalanced. Mom accused dad of being neglectful. The statements were typical of most divorces, especially ones involving minor children. Yet after the shootings, the media magnified the allegations, particularly the criticism of Andra.

“Mom had no difficulty showering love and affection,” Myles Sachs corrects with the firmness of a loving – and loved – son. “She was a hugger. No matter how bad things got, she was always there.”

Myles stares at me for a moment. His comment hangs in thick air.

“Always there.”

Contact the writer: dwhiting@ocregister.com