Vincent got dressed, calm as a cucumber. He held no grudge agaisnt the Bertenilli family, it was just buisness. He understood. What he hated, was the fact that he wasn't paid for the hit he performed. That pissed him off more than anything else. 

Then the chest full of gold was flopped open. He stared at it with open greed, and a practically drooling mouth. That was a lot of gold. It would make a lot of money.

All he had to do was take revenge. He reached out to touch the gold, then paused, and stood back up. He had been given a similiar offer before for a similiar job, that went tits up. Lots of people died because of that. If he took it and failed, he'd be their bitch at best, dead in a gutter at worst.

"Think you can do that?" An obvious question with an obvious answer. He looked at the gold chest, and slammed the lid closed.

"Keep your money, this is a personal matter for me now. My reputation is on the line for this fuck up. If people think they can get me to work for no pay, no one will pay. And example will be made of this fucker."

He walked past Helena and made his way up the stairs, without looking back at her he shouted to her.

"Consider my payment for this job already paid in full. After all, you left me alive. That is enough." 

He walked out to the middle of the warehouse and waited, he could only leave if she allowed him to. He didn't want to get gunned down by trigger happy goons.