e-ARC review, thank you for Luna Literary and Siena Trap❤️!!!!
This book, in theory, was one of the most anticipated in the saga. Not because it happens afterward, but because it unfolds parallel to the stories of Matteo and Summer, and Enzo and Allie. Narratively, that puts it in a delicate position: it can’t contradict what’s already been told, but it also can’t fall short. It has to add to the world. And it does, even if not in the most comfortable way for the reader.
The premise is simple, almost brutally so. Gio, the don of the entire Bellini mafia in this world, has been searching for his wife Rory for seven years, after she ran away. When he finally finds her, he has a clear, cold plan: capture her, cover her identity, and secure an heir. Preferably a son. No romance, no emotional negotiation. This story is about lineage, power, and continuity. Basically, that’s what the book is about. Yet, it’s not that simple.
This was, for me, the book in which I disliked the male protagonist the most for the majority of the reading—probably over 70% of the time. Gio is not a character designed to be lovable, and you can feel it. Every time it seems he might change or do something different, he ends up making it worse. He tries to be likable, yes, but fails over and over. He doesn’t connect. He doesn’t let himself be loved. And that makes reading him exhausting, frustrating, and challenging at times.
On the other hand, the true protagonist of the story is Rory. She steals the story effortlessly. She’s the kind of woman you read and think: I want you to succeed. Rory is silent strength, constant resilience. A woman who knows what she wants, even if she had to run away to discover it.
The conflict with Gio runs deep because he operates behind a mask. For much of the book, he makes you believe he’s trying to change, that his actions have a different motive. But no. Everything is strategy. A functional lie. When the mask comes off, all that remains is indifference and an extreme ability to treat Rory as disposable. That cannot be softened or justified.
Yet the book doesn’t portray him as a flat villain. Gio is the product of an extremely harsh upbringing. His mother was reduced to a means to conceive him and then removed from his life. His father instilled in him a utilitarian and misogynistic vision: a man needs a wife to have a child, preferably a son, and then he can discard her. Love does not exist. Marriage is a transaction. The only things that matter are mafia, revenge, and power.That’s why it’s not 100% his fault but it’s not 0% either.
The saga itself shows that change was possible. Matteo, raised under the same mold, manages to break the cycle. He finds peace with his wife and daughters, learns to yield and feel. Enzo, raised in an equally traumatic environment by the twin brother of Matteo and Gio’s father, also allows himself to love, becoming more patient, compassionate, and human. Both maintain the mafia facade publicly, but with their families, they show who they really are. Gio doesn’t manage that. Not because he lacks examples, but because his position of power and fear keep him tied to an ideology that no longer works. He’s, as they say, emotionally disconnected. He believes he can live without love in a world that simply doesn’t function that way.
Rory, meanwhile, understands something fundamental: her whole life, she’s been a puppet. Her family decided for her. She was married too young, without love or real choice, to a man she didn’t know or understand. Realizing that, running away isn’t cowardice it’s survival. And honestly, anyone in her position would have done the same. What makes this book so difficult is that Rory has always loved Gio. He is her husband. She loved him even when the circumstances were wrong. But Gio doesn’t let himself be loved. He fills himself with hate, rigidity, and irrationality. He’s the kind of character who makes you want to throw a shoe at him in every chapter. Yet, you keep reading.
Until the turning point comes. That classic, well-executed moment when you realize you don’t know what you have until it’s on the verge of being lost. That’s when Gio’s redemption arc finally works. Not because he becomes perfect, but because his facade falls. The untouchable don disappears, leaving an ordinary man: someone who feels, falls in love late, gets scared, and fears losing everything in the blink of an eye.
That’s why, even though I didn’t connect 100% with the book, I ended up enjoying it. It’s an honest 4-star read. Not perfect, not complacent, but brave. And that’s why I want others to read it and give it the chance I gave it. Because as a saga, this is a 10 out of 10. And this book, though uncomfortable, adds depth, contrast, and truth.