Willy Morgan looked at the group of people before him. Each of them exuded a vigorous energy. The leader, Eleanor Rodriguez, was a woman in her forties, dressed in a sharp professional outfit with a neatly tied ponytail. Her subtle makeup complemented her face, striking a balance between professionalism and youthful appearance. The three men with her, clearly bodyguards, had muscular physiques that strained against their jackets. There was a burly man with a large head and thick neck, obviously the chef, and another man in a suit with gold-rimmed glasses, carrying a box that hinted at his role as a private doctor. Beside Eleanor, there was a demure young woman, presumably the personal assistant, and a middle-aged man with a square face who looked like the chauffeur.“Mr. Morgan, as you can see, we have three personal bodyguards, this is the chef, this is the private doctor, and this is the driver. This lady is the personal assistant, and I am the housekeeper. Our annual salary is 2 mi
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