@giordirossi location: her home ok
The fact that Vincenzo hailed from a life prior to losing his brother, meant that it never felt right, putting his foot down when those beneath his charge needed time - space, to process the way the pieces had fallen. He'd taken sole responsibility for the error of the soldier beneath him, and that had been the end of it. Those of which had something else to say, could step up and do so - and he'd willingly pull out the long list of mistakes made on all sides. There was nothing clean about raging a war like theirs, and Vincenzo would never claim to be a perfect man. What he would do, however, was remain observant - however dark the shadows he lingered in, he still saw the path that each of his men took in lieu of striking a match.
Case in point, his two closest friends and the struggles they seemed to take upon themselves. Giordana had been pulling away - slowly, yet rather effectively. Like a blunt knife digging at a bullet wound. Eventually, she'd get to where she felt comfortable, but what damage would it do? He wasn't willing to watch it fester. He'd knocked sharply, at her front door. Listening to the footsteps on the other side move closer until the lock clicked he was given the first look at his best friend in weeks. His foot moved before he spoke, boot jamming in against the door to keep her from slamming it in his face - not something she'd ever done before, but there was still time for firsts, "I think it's time we talked."