Chapter 52 

It was just a pity… she was destined for disappointment. 

After the dinner ended, Garrett Wylder looked quite sober when he came out. 

His eyes were bright and alert, his steps steady. 

But when he handed us his room key and said “pay the bill,” we knew… he was completely drunk. 

At this moment, two female attendants came over supporting Amelia. 

She still looked quite out of it. 

Clay and I immediately stepped back in silent understanding–don’t help, absolutely don’t help! 

We used our eyes to frantically signal to Garrett Wylder: You support her. You must support her. We’re scared. 

Garrett Wylder: “…” 

Sure enough, Amelia leaned against his arm, acting like “if you don’t support me, I’ll faint.” 

He had no choice but to help her off the boat. 

At the dock, the driver had already opened the car door. 

“Where’s your car?” 

Garrett Wylder asked. 

“…Don’t know.” 

Amelia closed her eyes, her body soft as if she wanted to melt into his embrace. 

Garrett Wylder gripped Amelia’s shoulders, not letting her succeed, his tone icy: “We’re not going the same way. Either call a designated driver or take a taxi home yourself.” 

Me: “…” 

Clay: “…” 

Not escorting her? This… seems a bit too harsh, doesn’t it? 

I silently added in my mind: Just now… didn’t they kiss? 

Garrett Wylder frowned and glared at us, “Stop standing there stupidly, call her a car!” 

Clay and I quickly looked down at our phones, operating with tiger–like ferocity, opening the app to locate and call a ride. 

But the more I thought about it, the more uneasy/I felt. 

I looked up, somewhat hesitantly saying: “Alpha, I think with Amelia this drunk, going back alone really isn’t safe. How about… we take her to a hotel?” 

Garrett Wylder let out a cold laugh, “Ha, you’re quite good at coming up with ideas.” 

It really wasn’t safe though. 

He was silent for a few seconds, then slowly spoke: “Since it’s your idea, you’ll be responsible for her at the hotel.” 

I Dumned My Alpha… Now He’s on His Knees 

Chapter 52 

After saying that, he helped her into the car and got in himself. 

Me: ??? 

Clay looked at me, his eyes clearly saying: Look what your big mouth got you into! 

Me: “…” 

Really–1 was angry but didn’t dare say anything, especially since I hadn’t been paid yet. 

The front seats were already full–driver in one, someone in passenger seat. Only a “battleground” remained in the back. 

My scalp instantly went numb. 

“I’ll take a taxi back!” I quickly declared my position, wanting to escape. 

“You taking a taxi is worse than me taking a taxi.” 

Clay was quick–eyed and fast–handed, directly pressing me into the passenger seat and closing the door in one smooth motion. 

He himself gracefully slipped away from the other side. 

Me: “I… damn.” 

I swallowed the last word. 

Resignedly buckling my seatbelt, I glanced in the rearview mirror at Garrett Wylder’s angular profile, the air pressure low enough to freeze into frost. 

The car slowly left the dock and drove onto the road toward the city center. 

The car was excessively quiet–so quiet I could hear my own heartbeat. 

I didn’t dare look in the rearview mirror again, only stared straight ahead, not daring to make any unnecessary movement lest I be labeled as “meddlesome” again. 

Just as I was thinking this, Amelia, who had been lying in the back seat, suddenly sat up straight. 

She swayed unsteadily, like a small tree swaying in the wind. 

When the car turned from the bridge onto the main road, she fell toward Garrett Wylder’s lap like a falling leaf! 

My heart jumped, thinking this was bad–here we go again! 

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