you were new to chicago. he was the stranger who kept finding you. michael “mikey” berzatto was charming, loud, and always seemed to be in the right place at the right time. a chance encounter at a coffee shop, a friendly smile on the sidewalk, a familiar voice calling you sweetheart. but coincidences don't leave flowers outside your door. they don't send anonymous messages at midnight, buy you things you've only admired from afar, or know when you've made it home safe. mikey calls you pretty girl. sweetheart. pet. bunny. peach. and he always seems to know where you are. you thought you were starting a new life in chicago. mikey thinks you've finally come home to him. and he doesn't intend to let you go.
Published
By writing, you agree to our Terms and Privacy Policy