Lillian had been wondering when she would see the man again. She had never learned his name, not that she even bothered to ask. His name didn’t really matter. He was just another annoying man that she had to deal with. Well, he might not have been just any man. She knew he had powers. She had seen the way her girls had obeyed his commands, and she had spoken to them at length about it afterwards to make sure it wasn’t simple mutiny. Plus she had felt the compulsion to obey him too, even though she wanted to do those things anyways.
In the end, it probably was good for her to have left like she did after punching his pretty face. In her opinion, she had made it even prettier, but she knew that like all men, he would’ve made a scene about it, like the scene he was making now. He had a flair for the dramatic. She had to give him that. Of course she had a flair for the dramatic too. She smiled at his insults, which she took as compliments. “Do you call all women who best you “bitches,” or am I just special?” She teased.
When the person shot her, she didn’t react at first, and just looked down at the bullet hole in disappointment. It took her a second to remember she probably should have reacted more, though she quickly recovered from that by dramatically collapsing to the ground and giving a performance of pain that she wasn’t experiencing. “Oh, God! How could you do that?” She sobbed, clutching her hand to her chest. She coughed a few times, making it seem like she could barely breathe, and then she broke into laughter. “I’m sorry. So sorry. Well, no I’m not. It’s just, did you really think that would work you poor sad delicate man?”
The woman kept fucking smiling, and Kilgrave glared at her. God, how was she even more bloody smug this time? He didn’t reply to her comment. She was just trying to goad him. As if that would do anything for her. Was she trying to be brave? It didn’t seem like it. Kilgrave had always struggled to tell the nuances of expressions apart, but he knew fear when he saw it, and she didn’t look afraid. She looked arrogant, the way Jessica had looked when he’d told her to stop, and she’d kept bloody walking.
He didn’t usually watch violence being carried out – it was sickening – but he wanted to see this bitch being shot. He would enjoy watching her die. He stared straight into her eyes as the civilian pulled the trigger, and she didn’t react. She just looked down at the wound for a few seconds, and Kilgrave waited for it to sink in. He’d heard the silence a few seconds before people started screaming. She must have been in shock. And then, after a moment, she collapsed and pressed her hands against the bloody wound, which Kilgrave was trying not to focus on. She coughed, and he noticed something hollow in her voice, like she was taking the piss.
That was when she broke into laughter. He blinked. What the hell? He’d guessed she was strong, like Jessica, but she was invulnerable? Like Cage? He looked down at her, grinding his teeth together. She was laughing at him? “Stop laughing,” he hissed. “Tell me; what the hell are you?” Christ, she was infuriating. The civilian made a sobbing sound beside him, obviously realising what he’d done, and Kilgrave glanced at him. “Oh, shut up,” he snapped, before turning back to the woman.