Derrick woke up the next morning with one thought on his mind:
It was time.
Time for his family to finally know the truth. Time to tell them he was engaged to the woman he loved more than anything. Time to stop hiding pieces of his life because he was afraid they wouldn't understand. Sophia had defended him, stood by him, chosen him now he needed to show her that he was willing to bring her into his world too, even if that world wasn't glamorous or comfortable.
Sophia had an early shoot scheduled, so Derrick kissed her forehead, wished her luck, and headed out before the sun climbed too high. He lived far from the neighborhood he grew up in, but the memories of those streets still clung to him no matter how much life changed.
The south side of the city old, worn-down buildings, cracked pavements, kids running around barefoot, the smell of fried food mixed with engine oil. It wasn't the kind of place people bragged about, but it was home. It was where he learned to fight for everything he had. It was where his parents still lived, stubborn and proud despite their struggles.
As Derrick walked through the familiar streets, a few neighbors waved at him.
"Derrick! Long time, boy!"
"See as you fresh now, eh! City life fits you!"
He laughed and waved back, but inside he felt a twinge of guilt. He hadn't visited as often as he should. Work, bills, life it all piled up and made returning here harder. But today he felt lighter. Stronger. Ready.
When he reached his parents' house, he paused for a moment to take it in. It still looked exactly the same small, old, but well-kept. His mother had always made sure their home never looked neglected, even when money was tight. The garden had the same flowers she'd been growing since he was a kid. The windows were clean. The faded blue door was still there, stubborn as ever.
He knocked.
The door swung open almost immediately.
"Derrick!"
His mother pulled him into a hug before he could say a word. She smelled like spices and warmth, the way she always had. His father appeared behind her, arms crossed but smiling with quiet pride.
"You didn't even call to say you were coming," his father said.
Derrick grinned. "Wanted to surprise you."
"You succeeded," his mother said, cupping his face. "You look good. Eating well now?"
"I'm trying," he laughed.
They ushered him inside, talking over each other, asking questions, fussing over him like they always did. The house looked the same: old couch, peeling walls, photos of Derrick's childhood everywhere. It made him feel grounded.
They sat in the small living room, and Derrick took a breath.
"I have something to tell you."
His mother paused halfway to the kitchen. "What is it?"
His father leaned back in his chair, watching him closely.
Derrick smiled nervously. "I'm… engaged."
Silence.
Then his mother gasped loudly, dropping the small bowl she was carrying onto the table. "Engaged? As in… you want to marry someone?"
Derrick chuckled. "Yes, Mom."
His father's eyes widened. "To who? When did this happen?"
"It's Sophia," Derrick said softly.
Both his parents exchanged a look.
"Sophia? The same Sophia we've seen on TV?" his mother asked quickly.
"Yes."
"She's famous," his father muttered. "Very famous."
"They're engaged now?" his mother whispered to herself, touching her chest as if calming her heartbeat.
Derrick nodded. "I love her. And she loves me."
His mother rushed over and hugged him so tight he almost lost his breath. "My son is getting married…"
His father stood up and placed a firm hand on Derrick's shoulder. "Congratulations. We didn't expect this, but… we're happy for you."
Doubt lingered in their eyes, though they tried to hide it. Derrick understood it wasn't because they didn't trust him. It was fear. Fear that this world he was joining might chew him up. Fear that someone as big as Sophia might hurt him without meaning to. Fear that he'd end up heartbroken.
Still, they were supportive. And that meant everything.
His mother started rambling excitedly, talking about wedding plans, outfits, prayers, future grandchildren she went on and on until a sudden knock echoed through the house.
They all turned.
"I'll get it," his mother said.
She hurried to the door. Derrick kept talking to his father, but halfway through a sentence, something made him look toward the entrance.
His mother froze.
Her smile dropped instantly.
And Derrick recognized the silhouette at the door before she could speak.
A young man barely twenty stood there with a stiff posture, dressed too neatly for someone from the neighborhood. His expression was polite, but his eyes carried a kind of weight that didn't belong to someone his age.
"Good afternoon, ma," the boy said quietly.
Derrick's stomach tightened.
He knew him.
Everyone knew him.
The boy wasn't just a random visitor.
He was the errand boy messenger for the most feared Mafia boss in the city. The man who controlled half of the south side, the one whose name mothers didn't dare mention in front of their children.
The boy met Derrick's eyes.
"Sir, I was asked to deliver this," he said, extending a sealed envelope toward Derrick's mother.
His mother looked shaken, almost pale.
Derrick stood up. "Why is he here?"
The boy hesitated, then spoke with respect.
"I was told to give this to them. They know what it's for."
Derrick's father got up abruptly, his face stiff. "That's enough. Thank you. You can go."
The boy bowed slightly and left.
The door closed.
Derrick stared at his parents, feeling dread coil in his stomach.
"What was that?" he demanded.
His mother didn't answer.
His father clenched his jaw.
And Derrick
suddenly knew
Whatever was in that envelope wasn't something small.
And his parents weren't as uninvolved as he always believe.