Angela's heart rammed against her chest. She didn't like this at all. Coming here was a bad idea, knowing that encounters like this were inevitable. The party was big—just not big enough.
Ivanovich Volkov glanced down at Trigger. His scowl grew before he shifted it back to Angela. The latter could only imagine what was going through his head. She should look away. She should not stare back at him, but for the love of all things insane, she couldn't. Angela stared right back at Ivan because she hated the man for destroying her family, because he was in her childhood nightmares, and glaring right at him made her feel good now because she wasn't alone.
It was probably stupid to glare, but if she looked away now, that would only seem like she was avoiding him. Who knows if he really recognized her? Maybe it was one of those times where you think you know someone from somewhere but just couldn't remember.
