BORDELLO OF BLOOD
Terry Stansfield gazed longingly at the clock on the wall opposite him. It was now 7:45pm, just fifteen minutes until clocking off time. At least, it would be if Polly was ever on time for her night shift.
Terry knew that his colleague hated working nights alone, but over time he had grown to have very little sympathy for her plight. To his mind, she was nothing short of greedy. She did not need to work the weekend night shift at the Botanical Plant. She was constantly boasting to him about how much money she made from her salon.
But Polly was never satisfied when it came to money. For someone who constantly bemoaned her lack of money, she drove a brand-new BMW, had more designer clothes and accessories than most A-list stars, and insisted on owning every new electroni
