Okay, Power by Vivian Flame? I went in expecting mafia grit, revenge, and blood-stained romance—but I didn’t expect to fall face-first into one of the most deliciously twisted obsessions I’ve read in a while. And now I’m sitting here, emotionally wrung out and questioning my morals... again.
From page one, this book had its claws in me. The voice, the tension, the shadows—it’s all dark, seductive, and dripping with danger. I felt the weight of that vendetta. Our anti-hero (because let’s be real, he is no white knight) is back in the game with one goal: take down Enzo Castelli. But fate, in her dramatic, chaotic way, throws Vittoria Falco in his path—and suddenly, vengeance isn’t the only thing burning.
Y’all. Vittoria. Is. A. Revelation. She’s fire in a designer dress—elegant, calculating, and hiding all kinds of sharp edges beneath that polished surface. At first I was like, “Noooo, don’t trust her!” But then I started slipping too. Just like our broody, rage-filled narrator, I was tangled in her web—unsure if she was a weapon or a trap, salvation or destruction.
The enemies-to-lovers tension? Off the damn charts. This wasn’t just slow burn, it was scorch and smolder until it hurts. Forbidden attraction, morally gray decisions, the will-they-won’t-they (and should they?)—I ate every toxic morsel of it. I knew they were walking a knife’s edge, but I couldn’t stop rooting for them to fall into it anyway.
And let’s talk steam—Vivian Flame does not pull punches. The chemistry between these two was all-consuming, the kind that threatens to leave ashes in its wake. But what really got me? Underneath all the grit and fury, there’s feeling. Real, soul-baring emotion that crept in quietly while I was distracted by all the beautiful chaos.
By the end, I didn’t know whether I wanted to hug the book or throw it across the room. Power gave me everything I love in a dark romance: revenge, obsession, betrayal, and a love story that’s equal parts poison and cure.
If you like your men dangerous, your women cunning, and your romance wrapped in razor wire—you need to read this. Just don’t expect to come out clean. I sure didn’t.