Fifth book in the King of Sin series, King of Envy has to be the perfect book in the series. I love it when Ana Huang writes morally grey men. A walking red flag? Well, I’m colourblind. He’s 6’5 and has a criminal history? Don’t have to tell me about it. I have my list of reasons to convince you to read the book.
Number one, Vuk Markovic.
Wait—you are seriously expecting a list? What more do you need?
And let me tell you something. He becomes a cat dad, names the ball of fluff Shadow. Now imagine a scarred, broody, towering man whose presence is enough to intimidate people picks up a cat because it resembled Ayana’s mug. I mean, his scary, everyone fears me aura aside, he is so freaking cute. If he were to read this, he’d take offence because I called him cute. Yeah, I’m way beyond obsessed.
Anyways, let’s talk more about the book.
Of course, in each of her books, she makes the characters so good. I have always raved about her skills when it comes to crafting characters that readers care about and form a connection with—leading us to be interested in the story. So let’s talk something else. The story was deeply layered. Other characters making a cameo is such a delight to read. Loved those bits.
And Vuk’s story was layered. So was Ayana’s. There was so much more beneath the surface—grief, guilt, trauma, survival—and yet, love found a way, like it always does in Ana Huang’s books. What I appreciated most was how their emotional arcs unfolded slowly, with nuance, without rushing the healing or the connection. You could feel the tension, the hesitation, the pull. The plot? It gave everything it needed to. The pacing was a slow unravel, but never boring—just enough to make you ache a little.
Now, I don’t read romance with a critical eye. I’m not here to dissect tropes or structure. I read for feelings. For the rush, the butterflies, the soft ache of longing. Unless something truly jarring pulls me out of the story, I’m not one to nitpick. I want to be immersed—and with this book, I was. Fully. Completely. Happily lost in the world of Vuk and Ayana.
I took my time reading this book. I remember reading King of Sloth in a single sitting. Loved the experience of it. But with this book, I wanted to savour it. So I took my time with it and thoroughly enjoyed it.
In the dedication for this book, Ana Huang says, “To all the readers who like their fictional men a little unhinged.”
And she delivered.
If Alex Volkov, Christian Harper, and Dante Russo define Ana Huang’s brand of morally grey men, then Vuk Markovic walks in like, “Hold my drink—I’ll show you how it’s really done.”
King of Envy was pure delight to read—everything from the characters to the plot to the tiniest in-between moments delivered exactly what I wanted. And how did I feel while reading it? Like I was caught in a storm of emotional chaos—in the best way possible. I was surprised, giggling, and swooning almost the entire time.
The tension. Oh my god. It felt like I was running out of patience. At a point I really wanted to scream at them and be like, “get together already.”
This has to be the slowest slow burn that I ran thin on patience. That’s the point tho.
I loved how there was a contrast—a ruthless man owning a cat, and the cat saves the day. My my, it is so freaking cute. I think Shadow is the star here. The entire book was emotionally charged in a way that caught me off guard at times. It wasn’t just about romance—it was about choosing love when it’s the harder path. There were moments where the characters had to make impossible decisions, the kind that made my chest ache a little. You feel the weight of what’s at stake—not just between them, but within them. And while I won’t spoil the scenes that really hit hardest (you’ve probably seen enough teasers on Instagram already), just know that when it lands, it lands. Quietly. Powerfully. In ways that linger.
If King of Envy were a drink, it’d be something dark and dangerous, the kind of cocktail you sip in a low-lit bar while locking eyes with someone you shouldn’t want. Think a twist on a Manhattan—rye whiskey for Vuk, sharp and brooding; black cherry liqueur for Ayana, all sultry beauty with something richer beneath the surface; a couple dashes of chocolate bitters to capture the tension simmering between them. Garnished with a single dark cherry and a sliver of chocolate on the rim—because this story is all about temptation, restraint, and what happens when you finally give in.
And then there were the lines. The lines. Vuk says, “I was the one who would kill and die for her in the same breath.”
Ana Huang?? Ma’am?? Okay, I see you.
I swear, I was reading this at 1:30 AM, and I burst out laughing—like, actual tears, hands-over-mouth kind of laugh. Not because the line was funny, but because it was so dramatically Vuk that I couldn’t handle it. That brand of intense, all-or-nothing love? Yeah. That’s the good stuff.
And Ayana? She hits right back with, “Grumpy, sweet, smart, loyal… a little stabby at times, but no one’s perfect.”
Gurlll. YES. I felt that deep in my soul. Like, she gets it. We get it. I completely agree—flaws and all, they were just so them. And I was here for every chaotic, heart-melting second of it.
This is the kind of book you reach for when you’re craving emotional indulgence—when you want your romance to feel like silk over a bruise. It’s for the reader who loves their heroes unreadable and scarred, the kind who loves fiercely and silently until it spills over in moments that feel like confessions. If you’re in the mood for slow-burning tension, a touch of obsession, and a heroine who holds her own through it all, this one’s yours. Read it when you’re emotionally available for chaos but still want the comfort of a guaranteed happy ending. Read it when you want something that feels a little bit like sin, a little bit like salvation.
Honestly, if Vuk and Ayana had a shared Notes app, it would be pure chaos—but the soft kind. I’m talking cat gifs, reminders like “no stabbing people just because they said no” (because let’s be real, Vuk absolutely needs that kind of grounding), and random one-liners in Russian that sound flirty until you translate them and realise they’re still flirty, just a little threatening on the side.
I can picture him rereading that one line—“breathe before you snap”—as Shadow casually strolls into his office like he owns the place. That damn cat probably levitates. How else does he appear and disappear like a shadow (pun intended) without anyone noticing? I just know Vuk pretends to be annoyed but secretly updates the Notes app to log Shadow sightings like he’s studying a wild creature. Ayana sees it, smiles, and adds “he only visits you when I’m not around. He’s obsessed. Just like his dad.”
King of Envy wasn’t just another instalment in the Kings of Sin series—it felt like Ana Huang was pulling back the curtain on the darkest, softest parts of love, the kind that simmers under the surface until it erupts. It’s messy, tender, sharp-edged, and completely addictive. Vuk and Ayana? They’re the kind of couple that leaves an imprint—equal parts storm and sanctuary. This book gave me everything I love about romance: emotional tension, characters who feel real in their damage and devotion, and a cat who silently steals the show. If you’re in the mood for something that feels like fire wrapped in silk, King of Envy is waiting. Go meet your next obsession.