Annabel's POV

The gunshot shattered the silence.

A violent crash erupted outside the bathroom door, and the thick wood splintered under the impact. I screamed and stumbled backwards, my phone flying from my hand and skidding across the marble floor before disappearing beneath the vanity.

"Annabel!" the emergency operator called through the speaker. "Annabel, stay with me! Can you hear me?"

I could hear her, but I couldn't answer.

Another blast struck the door, sending fresh splinters across the room. Somewhere behind me, glass shattered, and tiny fragments rained onto the tiles. I instinctively covered my head and crawled towards the bathtub, pressing myself into the narrow space beside it as though I could somehow disappear.

My lungs refused to cooperate. Every breath came in painful gasps, and my heart pounded so violently that I was certain Anthony could hear it from the other side of the door.

"Anthony," I cried, my voice breaking into sobs. "Please... stop. Please."

There was no immediate response.

For a brief, desperate moment, I wondered if he had finally walked away.

Then I saw his shadow stretch beneath the bathroom door.

"I wish you hadn't made this so difficult, Anna."

His voice was frighteningly calm.

It wasn't the voice of an angry husband, it was the voice of someone who had already made a decision and had no intention of changing it.

"You know too much."

My mind went completely blank.

Too much?

What was he talking about?

"I don't understand," I pleaded. "I don't know what you mean. Anthony, if I've done something wrong, just tell me. We can fix this."

A quiet laugh came from the other side of the door. The sound sent a chill through my entire body.

"That's exactly the problem," he said. "You still think this can be fixed."

A heavy impact rattled the door again. The lock groaned.

A thin crack spread through the wooden frame.

I pulled my knees against my chest and stared helplessly at the door, knowing it wouldn't withstand much more.

The operator's voice suddenly grew louder through my phone.

"Annabel, listen to me. Officers are on their way. Stay away from the door if you can. Help is almost there."

Almost...

I clung to that single word because it was the only thing I had left.

How had my life fallen apart in a single night?

Only yesterday, Anthony had stood beside me in front of hundreds of guests during our anniversary celebration. He had slipped a diamond bracelet onto my wrist, kissed my forehead, and smiled for the cameras as everyone applauded.

People called us the perfect couple. Friends said they wished they could find a love like ours.

If only they could see us now...

The bathroom door shook once more, and another crack appeared near the handle.

Tears blurred my vision. I wasn't ready to die... Not like this.

Then, through the suffocating silence, another sound reached my ears.

Sirens!

They were faint at first, barely audible over my own breathing, but they grew steadily louder until there was no mistaking them.

The police... They had found the house.

Hope stirred inside me for the first time that night.

Anthony heard them too.

The pounding against the door stopped. Everything became unnervingly quiet.

His shadow remained beneath the door for several seconds before he spoke again.

"You've already lost, Anna."

There was no anger in his voice, no panic, only certainty.

His footsteps moved away from the bathroom with slow, measured confidence.

A moment later, I heard the front door downstairs open and close.

He hadn't run, he had simply... left.

I slid onto the floor, my entire body shaking so violently that I could barely remain upright.

"Annabel?" the operator called. "The officers are entering your home now. Stay where you are."

Voices echoed through the house.

"Police!"

More shouting followed, though I couldn't make out the words.

Everything happened so quickly after that that it became impossible to tell one sound from another. My ears rang, my thoughts blurred together, and all I could do was sit against the bathtub, hugging myself while I waited for someone to reach me.

Heavy footsteps raced up the staircase.

"Ma'am!" a voice shouted. "Police! Are you in there?"

I opened my mouth, but no sound came out.

A few moments later, the bathroom door swung open.

Two officers stepped inside cautiously before lowering their weapons the instant they saw me curled up on the floor.

"You're safe now," one of them said gently.

Safe...

The word felt strangely unreal.

Anthony Smith wasn't the kind of man who abandoned his plans halfway through.

If he had walked away tonight, there had to be a reason.

One of the officers lifted his radio.

"We've located the victim."

He listened for several seconds. The colour slowly drained from his face.

"What did you say?"

Another officer called from somewhere downstairs.

"Sir, you'd better come and see this."

The first officer frowned.

"What is it?"

There was a long pause before the answer came.

"We've found a body."

My stomach lurched.

There had only been two people in this house.

Anthony...

He wasn't supposed to lose.

So whose body had the police found?