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SIXTEEN

SLYVIA'S POV

"This is quite a good neighborhood, ma'am," Paul remarked as we drove through the quiet, tree-lined streets.

"You know the neighborhood?" I asked, surprised.

"I used to work as a security guard at a hotel close to here," he responded with a nostalgic smile.

I was curious. "How was that? Did you enjoy working there?"

Paul chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

"Oh, it was quite the experience. I have plenty of stories. Like the time a married man brought his side chick to the hotel, and his wife showed up and confronted them. The drama was something else!"

I laughed. "That sounds like a soap opera!"

"Exactly!" he said, laughing along.

"And then there were the celebrities. They'd come in, cause a scene, and their agents would rush over to pay the hotel management to keep everything a secret. It was like living in a tabloid some days."

I shook my head in disbelief. "I can't imagine dealing with that on a regular basis."

"It kept things interesting, that's for sure,"
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