It’s hard to articulate the emotional aftermath of finishing this trilogy. Deep down, we always knew where this story was heading—but knowing doesn’t lessen the blow. I was still stunned. And disturbingly... relieved, even, dare I say, happy. Hannah’s journey was never going to end with triumph or escape. From the beginning, her fate was drawn in blood and steel. We admired her strength, her resistance. But there were only ever two ways out of Dante’s hell: death or surrender. And Dante, ever the strategist, found a new chain to bind her—a child. The most terrifying bond of all. Because he knew. He knew that once she was pregnant, she would never walk away, not from an innocent life. Not from his child. And when that final trap is sprung, when he tightens his grip and takes control in ways more disturbing than ever before, it’s not with rage or violence—it’s with cold, calculated precision. Her body becomes the proof of his victory. A living, breathing testament to his claim. Yet, in his attempt to conquer her, he gives her something new: a reason to fight. For a while, she builds a fragile sanctuary, a bubble of hope for her unborn child. But that hope—like all things Dante cannot control—must be crushed. “Good. Fear. Fear is honest. Fear is reverence,” he says, and in those chilling words, we see the truth: for Dante, love is domination. Devotion is ownership. Fear is proof of loyalty. Still, there are moments—twisted, tender moments—where you catch a glimpse of something deeper beneath Dante’s obsession. “You’re carved into my soul, Hannah.” And when she whispers, “You’d destroy yourself for me?” he answers, “Without hesitation,” it becomes heartbreakingly clear: this isn’t just captivity. It’s a bond so consuming it devours the line between love and possession. When Hannah tries to resist, to assert even the smallest piece of herself through silence, we hold our breath. But like every act of defiance, it’s met with relentless control. A new tattoo. A new claim. A new scar etched in ink. Until she begins to question whether there’s anything left of her that still belongs to her. Dante leaves no room for doubt. Every look, every whisper among his staff, every flicker of curiosity is punished. “Curiosity about Hannah… is a death sentence.” He doesn’t just want her love. He wants her thoughts, her reactions, her very essence. And the worst part is… her body responds. It may be muscle memory. Reflex. Conditioned desire. But to Dante that’s progress. Though never enough. So, he takes more. He ensures she can never leave. He tracks her. Watches her. Owns her, body and mind. But then—one confession, raw and unguarded, cracks something open. Not through power or pain or coercion. Through vulnerability. And that, more than anything, shakes Hannah to her very core. Because she starts to feel something back. Not fear. Not hate. Something far more dangerous. She’s not just trapped anymore—she’s a willing captive. And when she finally runs, it’s not from him. It’s from herself. The question that lingers like smoke after a fire is, has Dante finally broken her? And does Hannah really care?
I received a free copy of this book via Booksprout and am voluntarily leaving a review.