Kilgrave lounged in the hotel manager's office, leaning back in his chair, feet propped out on the desk. He idly picked up a frame portrait from the wood and frowned at it. "Is this yours? Not much of a looker, is she?" he commented, tossing the frame aside. The man watched anxiously, hand shaking as he held a blade to Patrica's neck. Kilgrave rolled his eyes, "Lighten up," he ordered, "She's not going to let you die." He snatched back the microphone and switched it on. "Don't keep me waiting, Jessica. I had so many plans for you. You're ruining my evening."