I didn't scream when he stepped aside, watching me fall—I smiled as the shards of my heart transformed into weapons in my hands. "Trust is a fucking bitch," I whispered, the calm in my voice more terrifying than any rage could be. Blood dripped from my fingertips as I gathered each fragment, not to heal, but to forge something deadlier than love, resolve. The pieces clicked together like a puzzle designed by fate herself.  My heart belongs to me—a beautiful, dangerous thing that beats with a rhythm they'll never forget, though they may beg to.