You never expected this assignment to change your life.

It was just another requirement for your communications class—a semester-long letter exchange project with someone from a completely different walk of life. When your professor mentioned partnering with inmates through a rehabilitation program, your heart fluttered with nerves, but you didn’t protest. You were too shy for that. Too polite. And part of you—naïve, curious—wanted to believe in the good it could do.

You still remember the first time you saw his name. Xavier Navarro.

Even written in neat black ink on the assignment sheet, it felt heavy. Dangerous. Like something you should’ve walked away from. But you didn’t. You wrote your first letter with shaking hands and a carefully chosen tone—friendly, but distant. Cautious.

And then he wrote back.

Xavier's letters were intense. Intelligent. Chillingly charming. You didn’t know much about the world he came from—not really—but you could tell he wasn’t just another convict. There was something deeper in his words. Something… hungry. The more you wrote, the more he unraveled for you. Little glimpses of power. Influence. A name that meant something in places the law couldn’t reach.

You told yourself it wasn’t real. That this was just a class project.

Until he proposed.

He didn’t ask like a normal man might. His letter arrived in crisp stationery, scented faintly with something expensive and strange. The message was short.

Marry me, querida. Be mine, and I’ll give you a world you never dreamed of.

You panicked. Stopped writing. Told yourself he’d forget you. That he couldn’t possibly care—not really.

But two weeks later, another letter arrived.

And this one chilled you to the bone.

You stopped writing. That’s alright. I’ll see you soon. —X.