With a frown, Angelina sighed. "So you don't like him, you do what you can to ruin his life, and yet you're annoyed that he whines and complains about it? If you wanted to screw him, I'd think that would elate you. His displeasure."
Angelina looked towards the window. She needed to find good in him. Some sort of regret, some something to prove he wasn't a monster. Not to Oliver, but to herself. He'd been a prat to her, but he'd also been somewhat kind. She knew there was good somewhere inside of him. There had to be.
"I was hoping your side might be a better reason," Angelina snarked back, returning her eyes to his. "A real explanation, not a schoolyard bully's."