Page 9 of A Billionaire's Secret

“Uh, we—we were just discussing some routine matters. Nothing of importance, really.” He stuttered.

I raised an eyebrow, my grin widening. "Routine matters, huh? Well, I hope it's not routine for you to keep secrets from me. You know I like to stay in the loop as the rightful owner of Desert Rose.”

“Absolutely, Mr. Forbes,” he nodded and lowered his gaze to the ground.

In any other circumstance, I would have grabbed him by the collar and demanded an honest answer. I could sense embarrassment oozing out of his pores, and his attempts at lying to me set my insides on fire. In any other circumstance, I would have caused a scene without thinking twice about it. But another sight caught my attention, and I walked away, leaving the dumbfounded vet behind.

A few feet away, closer to the jockey quarters, my daughter was having a heated conversation with Victoria. My heart sank at the thought of them hating each other or Diana finding out that I had slept with Victoria last night. Until that moment, I hadn’t even considered the consequences of my primitive actions.

I contemplated trying to calm them down, but I hadn’t the slightest idea what to tell either of them. So, I did the next best thing—I walked away.

In a matter of twenty-four hours, I had managed to sleep with my daughter’s opponent, possibly exposing that secret by not concealing the evidence, such as letting a loose pendant tumble around my house, and if that wasn’t enough drama for one day—I had a very fishy feeling about Diana and that vet.

Chaos was my specialty, so I slipped away from the stalls and hid away in my car to look for some structure. I fished my phone out of my pocket and dialed a number.

“Dr. Fischer, this is Chris Forbes. Hope you have a minute.” I began. “Listen, I need you to look at Desert Rose today. She’s at my ranch, just head over there as soon as possible. I want you to examine her thoroughly. I feel like she’s not in the best shape since winning the race yesterday.”

I waited for Dr. Fischer to scramble around and confirm that he was heading to my house and hung up. He and I had become fast friends since I started spending more time in Louisville and hanging around horses. He'd never lie to me if anything were wrong with Diana’s horse.

I tapped my foot nervously on the floor and bit my lip. I wondered what Diana and Victoria were arguing over, but I didn’t dare to go near them and find out. Just then, Diana’s name danced on my phone screen.

“Daddy, where did you go? I’ve been looking for you,” she asked.

“I’m just outside the clubhouse, come over.” I stepped out of the car and walked to the entrance. I didn’t want to seem like I was hiding away.

Diana waltzed out with a duffle bag over her shoulder and sunglasses over her eyes. I remained silent and waited for her to say something about her quarrel with Victoria. She didn’t.

“Wanna go for lunch?” Diana asked instead.

“Um, sure.” I hesitated. “The soup and salad place?”

“Yea, anywhere. You drive, I’m tired.”

I started the car and stared at my daughter as she sat back in the seat.

Well, what happened?

She crossed her arms and stared out the window.

“This Victoria is so annoying,” Diana finally said while I swallowed a lump. “She thinks she’s God’s gift to horses.”

“Why? What happened?” My foot pressed the gas, hoping the sound of the engine would mask the loud thumping inside my chest.

“She was snapping at me for no reason, and then I put her in her place,” Diana elaborated. “She’s such a know-it-all.”

“She’s been at this club for a while, maybe that’s why,” I tried to calm my daughter down, realizing she didn’t know anything about my one-night stand.

“Ugh, she’s just bitter that she lost to me,” Diana scoffed and turned up the radio volume.

My mind shifted to Victoria. She didn’t seem like she could hold a grudge or be bitter for no reason. There was a certain grace to her and the way she carried herself. I hoped there’d come a day when the two could be in the same room together. But until then, it was best I kept my secret from Diana.

We grabbed a table at our salad spot in downtown Louisville, and while Diana looked over the menu, my phone vibrated. I excused myself and stepped out on the patio to take Dr. Fischer’s call.

“Chris, I looked over Desert Rose,” he began. “I am almost sure she’d been given PEDs.

“PEDs? English, please,” I scoffed.

“Performance-Enhancing Drugs,” he explained.

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