This is a compulsive read because the writing is skillfully unexpected and the story so outlandishly gruesome that you can’t stop. Also, the unhappy, derailed sex. 
I presume that this is supposed to be a reverse Lolita (there is one menton to her, as well as Henry Miller). That is, the perspective of the survivor of abusive desire. The planted need of beauty and money to assuage trauma.
However, what makes the book compelling at first - the incredible writing which makes connections that I never thought of and opens emotional depths - becomes mannerist and over the top. The plot unravels rather than unfolds and the end is simply ridiculous. We stop following the character not because she is unlikeable but because the writing suddenly makes her artificial.  The plot twists are just that, there is no real necessity for them. At a certain point, you feel too manipulated.
That said, I would still recommend it for the first part and for a few insights into the female psyche. It feels like a book where all the use made of women in narrative - and in life - are crammed together but written from the perspective of the used woman. It’s a pity that the writer felt compelled to overdo it and lose the reader (at least this one) midway.