This book? Negative infinity fucking stars. If there was an award for the worst book I’ve ever read, Vow of Deception would take the gold, the silver, and the goddamn bronze. And the worst part? I read this in 2023, vowed to never look back, and now here I am, forcing myself to relive this nightmare for the sake of my one-star reviews. Someone send help.
This was my first Rina Kent book. My first dark romance. And it made me want to bleach my brain. There is no romance here. NONE. What’s here instead? ABUSE. RAPE. PSYCHOLOGICAL TORTURE. This wasn’t a love story—it was a horror novel disguised as one. The kind of book that makes you wonder if the author thinks love = suffering.
And honestly, sometimes I wonder if Rina Kent is even a woman. Like, how demented do you have to be to call this a romance as a woman? But then again, authors like Cora Reilly exist. Still… I have my doubts. I have a real love-hate relationship with her books—loved some, hated some, no in-between.
🔪 THE PLOT (IF YOU CAN CALL IT THAT) 🔪
Girl is homeless. Gets picked up by scary mafia man to pretend to be his dead wife. Sounds kinda interesting, right? WRONG. Because what follows is 300 pages of Adrian treating her like a literal prisoner. Locked in a mansion. Can’t eat what she wants. Can’t dress the way she wants. Guards everywhere. Can’t even SPEAK without his permission. That is not romance. That is a hostage situation.
And THEN we have the “romance.” You know, the one that starts with rape. Oh, but don’t worry! Later she starts enjoying it! That makes it okay, right?! (It does NOT.) Every single interaction between them was disgusting. Every touch was forced. Every moment was filled with power imbalance and control. At no point did I feel any kind of chemistry, only fear.
AND THEN, just when I thought it couldn’t get worse, we get to the bathroom scene. Picture this: Adrian’s in the tub. Winter walks in. She gasps. GASP! HE’S NAKED! Ma���am. He is TAKING A BATH. What did you expect?? This moment has the same energy as walking into a bakery and screaming, “OMG, BREAD???”
👎 ADRIAN VOLOV (AKA SATAN HIMSELF) 👎
If you like Adrian Volkov, seek help. He is an abusive, controlling, self-obsessed monster. Oh, but wait! He has some cute domestic moments with his son! That means he’s a good guy, right? NO. Because here’s a real conversation between him and his child:
“Papa, is Mommy in there?”
Winter is literally panicking, trying to get away from Adrian.
Adrian: fingers still inside her “Yes.”
“Can I come in?”
Winter: shaking her head frantically
Adrian: “Yes.”
WHAT. THE. ACTUAL. FUCK. Who wrote this and thought, "Yes, this belongs in a romance novel"???
Oh, and speaking of his son—Adrian acts like he barely exists. That is, until Winter tells him he should be a better father. So what does he do? Pulls her onto his lap and says, “You said I don’t spend enough time with him.” SIR. THIS IS NOT WHAT SHE MEANT.
🤡 WINTER/LIA (A PROFESSIONAL DOORMAT) 🤡
Girl. GIRL. Where is your self-respect??? The amount of times Adrian literally BEATS HER and she still sits there like, “Maybe I love him??” STOCKHOLM SYNDROME IS NOT ROMANTIC. The way she acts like she has a choice in anything when she literally does not. She had all the personality of wet cardboard.
AND THEN SHE STARTS HAVING SEX DREAMS OF ADRIAN RAPING HER AND… MASTURBATES TO IT. IN HER SLEEP. I CANNOT MAKE THIS UP. This book gave me more icks than I have ever experienced in my entire life.
📉 WRITING? WHAT WRITING? 📉
This book reads like an AI-generated mafia romance. The dialogue is laughably bad. The “romantic” moments are skin-crawling. The smut is just abuse with extra steps. Rina Kent wrote God of Wrath—SHE KNOWS HOW TO WRITE. WHAT HAPPENED HERE?? Adrian is a cheap Walmart version of Jeremy. And somehow even less tolerable.
And to top it all off? IT’S A TRILOGY. I thought I was almost free, but NOPE. There are TWO MORE BOOKS. As far as I’m concerned, this is a standalone, because I would rather DIE than read the next ones.
🔥 FINAL THOUGHTS 🔥
This book glamorizes abuse and calls it love. This is not dark romance—it is straight-up horror. Rina Kent said, “What if I wrote a book about a rich man kidnapping a woman and forcing her to be his wife?” and THEN she tried to convince us it’s romantic. MA’AM. THAT IS NOT HOW ROMANCE WORKS.
OH, AND GUESS WHAT? LIA ISN’T EVEN DEAD! PLOT TWIST! Winter IS Lia, and the poor girl is only presumed dead because she JUMPED OFF A FUCKING CLIFF TO ESCAPE ADRIAN. And honestly? I GET IT. If your husband of five years is so horrific that you’d rather yeet yourself off a cliff than stay with him, I think we can all agree that’s not a love story—it’s a walking red flag with a gun. In fact? I WOULD’VE JUMPED TOO. No hesitation. Full sprint. Olympic dive.
AND IT GETS WORSE. Apparently, book two is all about their past (because clearly, we needed more trauma), where Adrian forces Lia to marry him because she gets pregnant. And this man—this absolute demon in a suit—has the AUDACITY to say:
"It's either you or her, and if you play stubborn and say I should go to her, I'm going to make you watch me marry her, then fuck her to put an heir inside her."
"I'll make you watch me with Kristina every night before I fuck you. She'll have to adopt your child as hers, too, because I will not allow my offspring to be treated as a bastard. So what's it going to be? A wife or a mistress?"
EXCUSE ME. WHAT. THE. ACTUAL. FUCK.
Who green-lit this? Who wrote this and thought, "Yes, this is romantic." This isn't dark romance. This isn't even mafia romance. This is just sick
TL;DR: I have never hated a book more in my life. If I could give it negative stars, I would. My final rating is the same as Winter’s brain cells: ZERO.