********. ********, ********, ********, ********, ********. It was time to go into hiding. Stay low for a while until things sort themselves out. Maybe leave the city – her twenty-first birthday gala plans be damned. What other choice did she have? She had just discovered that her step-mother was behind her father’s murder, and now her mother was next on the hit list – and Veronica herself was just as likely a target. She was in danger and she didn’t know where to turn.

She had checked herself in to Hotel Xanis, believing her apartment would make her too much of an obvious target for whoever her stepmother had employed. At least here she could relax and clear her mind until she figured out a strategy.

“Okay, breathe,” she said, staring herself down in the hotel room’s bathroom mirror. “This is just like any other takedown. A b***h crossed you and you can beat her. You do this daily.” But it would take more than a venom-tongue to take down a trained killer. There went her nerves again, rattling up her spine through to her shaky hands.

Cool. Calm. Collected. These are what she needed to be. Always. Nothing less. She took a deep breath in. Slow exhale. Return to cool, calm, collected.

She glanced at her phone– s**t, her phone. If action-thrillers taught her anything, it was that you always needed to destroy your phone if you were going on the run. But it was her phone. Her baby. Her connection to the world. All of the power was at her fingertips…or it could be the death of her. She took the phone and slammed it to the tile floor, then continued to slam her ironclad stiletto heel on the iPhone screen until it cracked into pieces.

A knock at the door made the blonde leap back and stumble to the tile floor.

“Housekeeping,” a voice on the other end of the door called.

Damn, she was jumpy. She took another breath to remain her cool – but kept wide caution as she grabbed the fireplace poker from the mantle and brought it with her to the door. She peeked through the eyehole and slowly opened.

“Fresh towels?” the male hotel cleaner asked.

“Yes, please,” Veronica smiled, keeping the poker stealthily hidden behind her back as she allowed the cleaner in.

The cleaner passed by to the bathroom.

“Looks like you made a bit of a mess here, miss,” he laughed. “Would you like me to clean this up?”

“Oh, yes, thank you.” The typical condescension was lost in her voice amidst all the nerves.

“Are you alright, ma’am?”

“Yes, yes. I’m fine,” she sighed and turned away, clenching the poker to her chest. She needed to relax. Return to cool, calm, collected.

Instead, she choked – as the cleaner wrapped his forearm around her throat, pressuring in. Her feet began to dangle as he raised her by the tight grip, choking her as his second arm came around with a fresh towel – smelling of strong solvents and toxins. She tried to gasp for air as she felt her body sink - no, she was not going to go down like this.

The poker started to slip from her weakening fingers as she tried to fight back – tightening the grip on the rod as she swung her arm back, stabbing the b*****d right in the thigh.

“You c**t!” he shouted as he dropped her to the ground. Clang. The poker dropped on the ground at his feet. She gasped for air as she crawled weakly along the floor to escape, trying to scream but barely able to make a sound. Her vision was fading as she felt something sharp pierce her in the back – the ******** poker lodged into her side. She tried to scream and cry in pain – but just faint gasps released as the clothed hand appeared before her face – the chemical solvents filling her senses as they grew weaker ad weaker, her body drifting off into an induced trance…