Suit Thug

Salomon understood, but he did not approve. Vanessa was taking Kingpin's blood debt upon herself. She was courting death.

She was only an artist. She had never killed anyone, never committed any crimes; she could use neither a knife nor a pistol, and she knew nothing of Wilson Fisk's crimes. They had never truly talked things through. Salomon could see through such superficial thinking at a glance. This reception was entirely Vanessa's wishful thinking. Athena must have seen that too, which was why she agreed to do her good friend this favor. The woman said this was a decision she had made after careful thought. Whatever the future held, she intended to face it with him. Even if she had to endure the condemnation of her conscience every second of every minute, even death would not separate them.

"Hell has already opened its gates for me." She said it as if trying to make herself feel better.

Having said all he could, Salomon offered no further comment. He nodded politely and led Bayonetta away from her countrywoman.

Vanessa watched their departing figures disappear into the crowd and closed her eyes in pain. Her gallery had only been able to open because her good friend Minerva had connected her with influential patrons. Otherwise, no one would have cared about an obscure Italian painter who had come to New York to make a living. But she knew that from now on, she no longer had the right to step into Minerva's private apartment. This was her last chance to maintain a connection with high society. After this reception, she would have nothing more to do with Salomon, Minerva, or their circle, and she would receive no more help. For the sake of her partner's prospects, Vanessa could only force a smile, steady