Page 9 of Once Marked (Riley Paige #19)

A young man who wasn’t a student settled into a worn seat at the back of the Jefferson Bell University classroom, his tall frame folding into the small desk.

The room around him buzzed with the chatter of first-year students, their voices a blend of nerves and excitement, but his mind was elsewhere.

His gaze cut through the throng, staring at a young woman three rows ahead, admiring the dark hair cascading over her shoulders as she turned the pages of her textbook.

For him, she was the bright spot in the sea of fresh faces.

The other students were mere background noise, their questions and comments fading into insignificance.

Leo Dillard was the silent observer, his presence looming unseen in the bright afternoon light.

He had perfected the Art of blending in, and his neat appearance and carefully practiced attitude marked him as just another late enrollee rather than the outsider he truly was.

Even Professor Winters had been charmed by his request to audit her class, unaware of the deceptive currents beneath his serene surface.

As the lecture began, Leo leaned back, feigning interest in the discussion of American politics.

But every word April Paige contributed to the discussion, every slight movement she made, was cataloged in the recesses of his mind.

She was the key, the unwitting pawn in a game she didn’t even know she was playing.

She was oblivious to the danger that sat mere feet away, a predator cloaked in the guise of scholarly interest.

April’s hand shot up, eager to contribute to the debate, and Leo’s eyes narrowed, fixated on the subtle gestures that accompanied her words.

As she commanded the room’s attention, his thoughts churned with plans and possibilities.

And despite the warmth of the September afternoon filtering through the classroom windows, a chill ran down Leo’s spine as he watched April engage in the academic discourse.

He’d already seen the passion for justice that shone in her hazel eyes—so like her mother’s—when she joined class discussions.

It wasn’t the subject matter that held his attention; it was the way she spoke, the confidence that resonated in her voice—a mirror to her mother’s own assertive tone. Every inflection, every reasoned argument she offered, only served to stoke the fire he felt burning inside.

Leo’s mind was tumultuous, his thoughts constantly crashing back to that day in Riley’s office—the day she had spurned him.

He could practically hear the click of her heels against the floor, the tightness of her voice as she rejected him, the cold finality of the door closing on whatever fantasy he had allowed himself to indulge in.

It was a visceral cut, a wound to his ego that still festered.

He clenched the pen, a vice of indignant fury.

He could still taste the bitterness of rejection—the way Riley Paige had so effortlessly dismissed his advances, her expression unyielding.

And not only that, she had reported him to her superiors, ending his expectations of shining in a high-ranking FBI position.

A sense of injustice boiled within him, fueled by a flame that refused to be quenched by reason or time.

As Professor Winters expounded on the complexities of electoral systems, Leo’s pen moved almost autonomously, jotting down not the intricacies of political mechanisms but the nuances of April’s existence.

The way she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, the slight tilt of her head when contemplation took her, the exact shade of ink in the pens she used—blue, always blue.

These details were his lifeline, a connection to a world he felt owed him something profound, something that had been unjustly denied.

Each note was an affirmation of the perceived injustice and a silent vow to rectify it.

As if summoned by his brooding thoughts, April raised her hand, her voice cutting through the classroom clamor with a question about the Electoral College.

Leo’s attention, momentarily adrift in the sea of his rancor, snapped back to her.

There was a sharpened focus in his eyes, a predatory fixation on the subject of his vengeance.

As April spoke, he observed her confidence echoing her mother’s, her intellect just as piercing.

It was a stark reminder of what he felt had been stolen from him, fueling the growing fire of his anger.

In the margins of his notebook, now a canvas of his vendetta, Leo scratched out his rage in ink, each word a step closer to retribution.

As the dialogue in the room swelled, Leo’s pen raced across the paper, capturing every syllable that fell from April’s lips rather than what the teacher said. His handwriting became a frenetic scrawl, an external manifestation of his internal turmoil.

Analyzing her tone, her assuredness, he marveled—and seethed—at the likeness she bore to Riley.

The same combination of beauty and sharp intellect that had once drawn him to her mother now taunted him from the rows ahead, embodied in the youthful form of her daughter.

The similarities were uncanny, and they stung; it was as though Riley herself sat before him, yet again out of reach but this time in the guise of her offspring.

The lecture progressed, but Leo’s mind wandered down a much darker path, one where his elaborate schemes took shape, fueled by the intensity of his emotions. With each passing day, his plans grew more elaborate, his determination more fervent.

The bell rang, slicing through his contemplations like a verdict, and the class began to disperse.

The students around him were abuzz with the energy of newfound knowledge, but their chatter faded into a dull hum against the pounding of his heart.

His fingers lingered on his notes, feigning interest in the last remnants of Professor Winters’ lecture.

But his eyes, sharp as a hawk’s, followed April’s every move.

With each item she placed into her bag, a spark of anticipation ignited within Leo.

Her movements were graceful, her interactions effortless, and as she slung her backpack over one shoulder and waved goodbye to her classmate, a sense of impending triumph coursed through him.

His gaze never wavered from April as she navigated through the maze of desks and students, her laughter seeming to mock him.

He watched, rooted to the spot until she vanished around the corner.

Then, as if released from a spell, he slowly stood up, his mind racing with visions of what was to come.

This was just the beginning, the opening act of a drama that would unfold under his careful direction.

And as the doorway swallowed her figure, Leo felt a magnetic pull in her wake—a pull he was all too eager to follow.

He stood still for a moment, watching the empty space where April had disappeared.

The corridor buzzed with students shuffling to their next commitment, but Leo’s focus remained unshaken.

He knew what lay ahead in her day – the structured routine of an eager freshman, a pattern he’d learned as if it were his own.

His eyes flickered down to the closed notebook in his hands.

Inside, the pages contained more than just scribbles of schedules; they held power, a meticulously crafted map to Riley Paige’s downfall.

As the last of the students filed out, leaving behind a quiet that echoed against the walls, Leo slid the notebook into his bag, the corners of his mouth lifting ever so slightly.

It wasn’t just a smirk; it was the silent acknowledgment of a plan falling into place.

He moved toward the door, steps measured and unhurried, blending seamlessly into the current of students in the hallway.

The afternoon light cast long shadows across the grounds as he emerged from the building.

He kept a discreet distance from April’s path, a ghost trailing behind the vibrancy of college life.

To the unsuspecting eye, he might have been any other student lost in thought, but there was nothing aimless about Leo Dillard.

He’d been a ghost on this campus since the semester began, a specter haunting her footsteps.

His notebook held a map of her life at Jefferson Bell University.

Every morning jog, each casual coffee break, all chronicled with the meticulous detail of a seasoned investigator.

To Leo, these details were not an invasion but a rightful claim, pieces of a puzzle that would eventually lead Riley to realize the depth of her error.

But now, this was no longer just surveillance; it was the careful crafting of a revenge that would soon unfold. In his mind, he was not just stalking April - he was crafting the perfect revenge against Riley Paige, a plan that would soon make her regret ever ignoring him.