After divorce I am a billionaire

Chapter 1047 Treating Oneself as a Pawn



Chapter 1047 Treating Oneself as a Pawn

In the darkness, he felt his body falling down and down...

The weightlessness made him scream in terror, and he was calling out for his father.

But all he could hear was Anthony's cold, heartless voice.

"I choose Spencer. Let him go."

"You can always remarry a wife and have another son. But there's only one Spencer."

For the first time, Alistair felt his heart ache so much that it was almost hard to breathe. Tears flowed

freely from his eyes, each drop carrying an indescribable sense of despair.

Anthony's voice mixed with truth and lies. Alistair couldn't tell which was which or see anything clearly.

He didn't know how long the weightlessness lasted before he felt like he had fallen into water and

created huge splashes around him.

But when he opened his eyes again, everything was blood red. He was submerged in blood water -

suffocating, painful - as if his heart were about to explode under pressure.

And still Anthony spoke in that low tone of voice,

"When Spencer was your age, he could already solve middle school math problems while you couldn't

even get 80% correct on elementary school ones."

"Your piano practice for half a month has resulted in this? You can't even play scales at racing speed

but instead sound like you're dragging a donkey along!"

"Alistair, if only you had half of Spencer's intelligence and diligence, I wouldn't have to supervise your

mediocre studies every day."

"I choose Spencer..."

His vision blurred as Alistair completely broke down inside himself.

Suddenly sunlight shone through the darkness. It was too bright for him to open his eyes properly but

enough to clear up some of the confusion inside him bit by bit.

His long eyelashes trembled slightly with beads of sweat still clinging onto them. His blue irises

gradually regained focus while fear lingered on his pretty face after he woke up from such a nightmare.

"Alistair, you finally woke up! Are you feeling okay? Are you hungry? Do you want something to eat?"

came Paloma's lovingly concerned voice beside him.

Alistair blinked away tears that rolled off from the corners of both eyes. Paloma gently wiped them

away with her soft hands.

He remained silent for quite some time as memories from last night's nightmare kept flooding back into

mind, making it difficult for him distinguish what was real anymore.

"Is this heaven or hell? And why are you here too?"

Paloma chuckled helplessly then pinched Alistair's little cheek, "Silly boy! This is Earth! You're alive and

well, so that's why I'm able to see my dear great-grandson."

Gradually coming back into consciousness again after being saved from falling off building last night…

But who saved him?

A question without answer lingered within Alistair…

He surveyed the white hospital room, quiet and empty except for Paloma sitting by herself at the

bedside. There was no sign of that person. Was his father with Spencer? Busy comforting him?

He could already imagine Anthony by Spencer's side, offering words of comfort and support. The

image made his nose tingle with sadness and helplessness, like a tidal wave crashing over him.

"Grandma," he choked out as he threw himself into her arms, crying uncontrollably until his voice grew

hoarse and his emotions overwhelmed him.

"My little heart," she said in sympathy as tears streamed down her face.

But Alistair refused to say anything at all. He just cried inconsolably like never before in years.

...

When Anthony came back carrying Alistair's favorite pumpkin porridge, Alistair was still asleep on the

bed with traces of tears still visible on his soft fair cheeks. Meanwhile, Paloma kept wiping away her

own tears from beside him.

"What happened?" asked Anthony when he noticed something was wrong.

"Alistair woke up ten minutes ago crying and holding onto me tightly," replied Paloma sadly.

"I asked what happened but he wouldn't tell me anything."

"It's only 6:30 am," she added after glancing at the clock. "Why did you come here again? You didn't

sleep all night."

"I couldn't sleep," replied Anthony. All content © N/.ôvel/Dr/ama.Org.

He figured Alistair probably wouldn't like hospital food so he went to a nearby five-star hotel to get

some takeout for him.

Anthony put down the food container before sitting next to Alistair on the bed. He took out a wet tissue

paper and gently wiped away those pitiful tear stains from his son's face while Paloma rubbed her

chest uncomfortably due to emotional distress. She finally mustered up enough courage to ask, "How

is your injury?"

"It's nothing serious, Grandma. Don't worry about it." Anthony reassured her. He had taken an X-ray

last night which showed no bone damage but there was severe swelling around his shoulder blade.

Anthony iced it last night, and the doctor recommended using a brace or bandage tied around his chest

for several days in order not cause any further damage. However, Anthony worried that this would

scare Alistair so decided against it.

After cleaning up Alistair's face, Anthony noticed that something wasn't right with Paloma's condition.

"Grandma, you should go rest. I'll stay here," he suggested kindly without waiting for any objections.

"I've already called our butler who will come pick you up soon. You need take good care of yourself too.

Grandma, you're protecting me by doing so."

"Okay, if there are any issues that Alistair can't handle here, just give me a call."

...

Another ward.

Spencer had always had poor physical stamina, and he was even more exhausted last night. He slept

until dawn before waking up.

Malcolm sat on the chair beside his bed, with a stern expression on his face. He rubbed his wristwatch

with his fingertips, lost in thought and unaware of what he was thinking about.

Spencer lowered his guilty expression and blinked, "Dad, are you not busy with NIB?"

Malcolm furrowed his brows slightly and said, "I'm busy, but there's nothing more urgent to worry about.

Don't try to come up with any devious ideas to make me leave."

"..."

Spencer slowly propped himself up and sat up, with a bandage wrapped around his neck where the

bloodstain had been. This made his already pale face look even more like that of a sickly and

melancholic young boy.

"It seems that you're going to hold me accountable today. Tell me about it, I'm listening."

Malcolm sat upright with a serious expression on his handsome face.

"What exactly happened yesterday?" he asked sternly.

"You went to the scene personally, so you should be very clear about the ins and outs of the matter."

"I want you to retell the whole thing again."

Spencer squeezed the sheet slightly, still looking calm, "Alistair and I were attacked and kidnapped in

the campus. They were going to dismember Alistair. I talked them into extorting Anthony, but they

wanted more money, so they asked Anthony to take one of us. Anthony chose me and Alistair was

thrown off the roof..."

Malcolm listened quietly and waited until he finished before asking, "Are you sure this is the truth about

the whole thing?"

He pursed his pale lips and remained silent.

"You deliberately tricked Alistair into going to a non-existent game, and distracted the two bodyguards,

which gave the kidnappers a chance to strike. The investigation found evidence of drugs used to

incapacitate Alistair, but your electronic monitoring device did not alert me or your mom. You were not

drugged."

"It was your idea to use Alistair to blackmail Anthony, and it was your idea to put a knife to your neck

and force Anthony to make a choice."

"You were the one pushing everything behind the scenes, treating yourself and Alistair as pawns,

wanting to embarrass Anthony, am I right?"

Several kidnappers had confessed to all the details of the incident last night. Originally, it was a case

targeting only the Callahan family. The kidnappers knew Spencer's identity and had no intention of

harming him.

Spencer opened his eyes wide and bit his lip in silence.

Malcolm looked at his face, which looked very much like his own, in disbelief. "You're only eleven years

old, and you have this kind of planning and scheming. Have you ever thought about risking your life

and Alistair's, what the price would be if the rescue failed?"


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