Carlo J. Emanuele’s The Sins We Inherit is a bruising, heartfelt story about family, legacy, and the ways the past refuses to stay buried. The novel follows Costantino “Cost” Caduto II as he returns to his family’s orbit after the death of his grandfather, Tiger, a man whose shadow looms over Milwaukee’s underworld and over Cost’s own conflicted heart. The book moves through wakes, eulogies, burials, backyard feasts, and street confrontations, blending the intimacy of family drama with the sharp edges of a crime saga. It’s about fathers and daughters, fathers and sons, and the ways love can be messy, protective, and even dangerous.

Right from the opening pages, where Cost stands at Tiger’s wake, worn down and haunted, I felt pulled into the smoke-filled rooms and tight-lipped exchanges that define this world. The writing is cinematic without being overstuffed; little details like the smell of cigar smoke or the scrape of pews in a church make the world feel alive. At times, though, the heaviness of description slows things down, especially in the funeral chapters, but I didn’t mind lingering there. It felt true to the weight of grief, and it set the stage for the power struggles that follow.

I also appreciated how Emanuele balances the personal with the criminal. Cost isn’t just an heir to a mafia empire, he’s a divorced father trying to stay close to his daughter, Maddy, even as she slips through his fingers. The moment when she addresses him as “Dad” at the wake, only to retreat into the crowd, struck me with particular force. That small interaction captured more distance and heartbreak than any shouting match could. Later, when Frank Vistoso tries to assert himself at the altar during Tiger’s funeral, it’s not just a clash of egos; it’s a reminder that Cost can never fully escape this world, no matter how much he wants to. I found myself rooting for him, even when I suspected he wouldn’t get the peace he craved.

What I didn’t expect was how much heart the book carries in its quieter moments. A favorite scene of mine was the repast after the funeral, with sausage sizzling on the grill and cousins arguing over poker. The food, the noise, the laughter, it all felt warm and familiar, and it reminded me that this story isn’t only about violence and legacy, but also about belonging. I could almost smell the garlic bread and hear Sinatra crackling on the speaker. It’s those scenes, where love and menace share the same table, that give the book its punch.

The Sins We Inherit left me thoughtful and stirred. It’s not just a mob tale, it’s a story about trying to be better for the people you love, even when the past won’t let you. I’d recommend this book to readers who enjoy crime dramas with a human center, especially fans of The Sopranos or Dennis Lehane. But I’d also recommend it to anyone who’s ever wrestled with family expectations, or who’s wondered how much of our lives are chosen versus inherited. It’s a dark, gripping read, but underneath the gunmetal, there’s a father’s love beating strong.

Pages: 258 | ASIN : B0FKN76L1K