Page 3 of A Billionaire's Secret

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Christian

“ComeonDiana,Yes,yes... Come on!" I yelled at the top of my voice, standing right at the front of the enclosure. I was engrossed. The crowd was cheering, and so was I, lost in the moment.

That’s my girl!

A sense of pride nestled in my chest as I watched my twenty-two-year-old daughter race toward the finish line, neck and neck with her rival. Just moments ago, Diana and her horse Desert Rose stood no chance, and it seemed like the other jockey, racing Sahara, was already tasting the win. And suddenly, to my surprise, Desert Rose emerged stronger and faster than ever.

I glanced at the woman saddled up over Sahara. Her toned legs confidently gripped the saddle while her long dark hair flowed in a ponytail under her helmet. I felt a lump in my throat as I watched her fall behind Diana’s horse.

Diana had taken up horseback riding years ago, but it was just one of her many obsessions that filled the void in her heart after her mother, and I divorced. It was clear as day that she lacked the drive and ambition that other jockeys had. I didn’t expect to see her win medals. I only wanted her to stay happy and occupied. I knew I’d be right there on the sidelines when the next obsession came along, whatever that may have been.

Seeing Desert Rose cross the finish line was as surprising to me as it was priceless. Diana’s joy and pride filled the air, and I remembered her as a shy little girl with low self-esteem. That girl was nowhere to be found today. My daughter had finally conquered something of her own.

As we joined the winner's circle for the post-race ceremonies and interviews, the cameraman pointed his lens directly at Diana, eager to capture her victorious moment.

"Congratulations, Ms. Forbes and Desert Rose! What a thrilling race! How does it feel to come from behind to snatch victory?" The interviewer asked, thrusting the microphone toward her.

Diana flashed a triumphant smile, her face beaming with pride. "Thank you! It feels incredible. I knew I had it in me. It's an exhilarating feeling to prove everyone wrong and show them what I'm capable of.”

"Indeed, you proved you're a force to be reckoned with.” The journalist buttered her up. “Can you tell us about your strategy during the race? It seemed like you made a remarkable comeback."

Diana chuckled, brushing her hair back with a victorious flair. "Well, my strategy was simple: never give up. I knew I had a strong horse, and we were determined to catch up. I held on, kept pushing, and when the opportunity came, I seized it. It's all about seizing the moment, you know? In that same situation, I would win every time!"

"Seizing the moment, huh? More like you seized my wallet with all the bets I placed on you," I joked as Diana stepped off her horse and hugged me.

"Come on, Daddy! You know you love the thrill of the race, and you know I'm your lucky charm," Diana chuckled.

I let out a mock groan, but there was a smile tugging at the corners of my lips. "Yeah, yeah, lucky charm. Just don't ask for a raise in your allowance now that you have your own money."

As I pecked the top of Diana’s head, I felt a pair of deep, scorching eyes in my direction. I looked over and saw Sahara’s jockey. Her name had rung over the commentators’ microphones throughout the race—Victoria Hampton.

She stood a few feet away from us, her dark, long hair flowing down her back, her cheeks red, and her body still tensed up from the race. I wanted to comfort her and let her know that, in my eyes, she was the true winner today, but all I could do was let out a smile in her direction. She caught my smile and quickly turned away. My gaze followed her fit body as she walked away toward the jockey quarters.

“So, how do we celebrate?” I perked up, trying to hide my discomfort from the brief encounter with Victoria.

“We usually go to ‘Harry’s Bar’ after races.” A young man shouted.

“Alright! Diana, tell all your friends to come. It’s on me.” I instructed my daughter.

“Yeah, okay, Daddy, but only for a little while because we’re having a party at Julia’s tonight. We’ll meet you there.”

“Great race, Christian!” James Barrington, the owner of ‘Barrington Downs’ rejoiced as I bumped into him on my way out. “Desert Rose surprised us all today.”

“Thank you, James.” I nodded.

“Listen, my wife, and I wanted to invite you over for a barbecue tomorrow night, eight o’clock at the ranch,” he smirked, “My wife has insisted that I cook again.”

“Okay. Count me in.” I reluctantly agreed, if only to rub shoulders with the club’s owners and keep indulging in Diana’s hobby.

We shook hands, and with a sense of purpose, I turned around, headed out to the parking lot, started my car, and drove away for some peace and quiet before chaperoning tonight’s kid party.

***

As I pulled up to 'Harry’s Bar', the neon sign flickered above the entrance, casting a warm glow on the sidewalk.

Entering the bar, I was immediately enveloped in a lively atmosphere with its rustic charm and wooden beams crisscrossing the ceiling. The air was thick with the scent of whiskey and the low murmur of conversations. The bar itself stretched along one side of the room, manned by Pete, the bartender with the biggest handlebar mustache who seemed to have heard it all.

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