Chapter 91
91:
Brenna gave the competitor beside her a small, knowing smile but made no move to speed up.
However, the man had already taken Alex’s taunts personally. Unable to tolerate the mockery, he cracked his whip, urging his horse to quicken its pace—though not by much—keeping himself still alongside Brenna.
Meanwhile, Alex confidently began his second lap.
Convinced that he had left his opponents far behind, he threw a glance over his shoulder—only to find Brenna and a male competitor not far behind him.
That ten-meter gap was dangerous. If they surged forward at the right moment, they could easily close in.
For the first time, Alex’s cocky facade cracked. His eyes flicked back toward Brenna repeatedly.
Meanwhile, Brenna remained composed, her expression almost indifferent, as if this were just a casual ride rather than a race. The lack of urgency in her gaze was infuriating to Alex—it was as if she didn’t consider him a challenge at all.
Furious, Alex raised his crop and lashed his horse harshly, demanding more speed.
The horse, pained by the blow, galloped forward with renewed energy. But it didn’t last. Barely half a lap later, its pace began to drop.
Certain of his lead, Alex cast a quick glance over his shoulder, convinced that Brenna and the male competitor had lagged at least twenty meters behind. With three laps still to go, he was sure they had no chance of catching up.
Grinning smugly, he lifted his hand once more, flipping Brenna and the man off without even bothering to look. But as he rode a little farther, curiosity got the better of him, and he glanced back again—only for his smirk to vanish instantly. Brenna was closing in.
Panic jolted through him. He had been watching her closely and hadn’t seen her use her whip once. How was she closing in so fast? Sensing he was losing his lead, he dropped the theatrics and whipped his horse again, desperate to widen the gap between him and Brenna.
Brenna, meanwhile, had pulled ahead of the male competitor beside her, now only eight meters from Alex. Seeing this, Alex was frustrated.
Damn it!
Why couldn’t he shake her off?
Brenna’s pace remained steady, completely unhurried, as if she had barely begun racing.
By the fourth lap, the field had stretched out, the weaker competitors fading into the background. Alex still held the lead and had even lapped the last rider.
Just then, Brenna’s eyes sharpened with icy resolve. For the first time in the race, she lifted her whip and gave a single, decisive strike. Her horse, responding instantly, surged forward with unrestrained power. Its hooves thundered against the track, kicking up dust, shrinking the distance between her and Alex at an alarming rate.
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