This is, without a doubt, the worst book I have ever read. It’s not just bad—it’s appalling, offensive, and deeply disturbing. The fact that this book has a four-star rating baffles me to my core. How is it rated alongside genuinely well-crafted stories, or even above books that actually respect their readers and characters? I genuinely question how this manuscript ever made it past an editor, let alone found a publisher. Reading it wasn’t just a waste of time; it felt like a personal assault on my brain cells.
Let’s start with the male protagonist—if you can even call him that. This man is, in no uncertain terms, a predator. He baits a cancer patient with money, fully intending to trap him in debt, and when the man dies, he turns his attention to the grieving widow, forcing her into a marriage she doesn’t want under the threat of harming her children. That’s not dark, complex romance—that’s straight-up abuse. He doesn’t just emotionally manipulate her; he explicitly threatens her family’s safety, reducing her to a hostage in her own life.
Oh, but it gets worse. Because this book has the audacity to try to romanticize this nightmare. Apparently, we’re supposed to swoon over a man who blackmails a woman, coerces her into marriage, and essentially makes her his sex slave. The author wants us to believe this is a “passionate” love story, but here’s the thing—you can’t just tell me there’s chemistry or love without showing why it exists. Fear is not love. Trauma bonding is not romance. And yet, the female lead—who has the personality depth of a soggy piece of toast—suddenly falls head over heels for the very man who is actively ruining her life.
Speaking of the female lead, I’ve never encountered a character so devoid of agency. She exists solely as a prop to justify the male lead’s possessiveness. She has no defining traits beyond her forced proximity to him, and her reactions to his abuse range from inexplicably indifferent to disturbingly accepting. There’s no growth, no spark, no reason for her to feel anything but absolute terror—and yet, she’s “in love” because… why, exactly? The author never bothers to explain.
But here’s the real kicker—the sheer hypocrisy of the plot. The series frames itself as this gritty mafia saga where the protagonists are supposedly “better” than the villains because, oh look, they’re fighting against human traffickers. But how exactly is the male lead any different? He creates a debt trap, coerces a woman into marriage, strips her of autonomy, and demands sexual compliance. That is trafficking. The only difference is the packaging. Just because the book slaps a “romance” label on it doesn’t make it any less horrifying.
What's even more baffling? In the previous book, two female characters were nearly trafficked, forced to get ready for an auction. In this book, those same women help the new protagonist get ready for her forced wedding-doing the exact same thing to her. How do you go through that trauma and then reenact it like it's normal?
And if you thought it couldn’t get any worse—surprise! It does. In a mind-blowingly disgusting twist, it’s revealed that the male lead secretly tampers with the woman’s birth control so she’ll get pregnant. This isn’t just morally bankrupt; it’s literal reproductive abuse. That’s not a “plot twist.” That’s a crime. It’s bodily violation, it’s manipulation on a cellular level, and the fact that the book treats this as just another hurdle on the way to “happily ever after” is sickening.
The most infuriating part? The book tries to sell this monster as a “good guy” because, oh, he doesn’t traffic women—just weapons. Right. Because the guns he sells definitely aren’t used to harm, oppress, or kill people. Apparently, that’s fine as long as he’s got abs and brooding eyes.
In conclusion, this book is not just poorly written—it’s dangerous. It normalizes abuse, romanticizes coercion, and tries to rebrand assault as “passion.” It left me angry, disgusted, and honestly a little heartbroken that stories like this are still being sold as romance. If I could give it zero stars, I would. This wasn’t just the worst book I’ve ever read; it’s the biggest regret of my entire reading life.