His, Forever ✔️

Chapter 5: Murderous

His eyelids began to feel heavy after 35 hours without sleeping.

"Ezra," one of the random men he had hired entered his bedroom. "Come look at this."

Suddenly, he was instantly awake. He stood up from his chair so quickly that it nearly fell over behind him.

He quickly followed the man down the stairs, and entered the room with multiple of the men that he hired to find Lilac.

France was always were he had them looking the most, since she spoke French. But he also had many people in every other country.

"Show me right fucking now," an anxious Ezra ordered.

His stomach was in a knot, praying that he wasn't going to get bad news.

"A body washed up on the beach in Portugal," one of the men spoke.

Ezra's heart instantly drop.

"Blonde hair. Blue eyes. 5'6. It matches Lilac, however it's unidentified," the man continued.

Ezra's vision went red. He yelled, "Show me the fucking report!"

The men all gave each other fearfull looks, however one gathered up the courage to hand it to him.

Ezra snatched it in an instant, his eyes flying over the page.

Same ethnicity. Same hair color. Same eye color. Same height.

His teeth were getting clenched so hard it was a miracle they didn't break.

"I hired 50 of you and you couldn't find a single fucking girl!" he screamed, his voice nothing but pure rage.

All the men flinched.

"It's been two fucking years, and she died because of you fucks! You were supposed to find her!" he continued screaming, his skin turning hot.

One of the men stuttered, "I-I'm sorry, Mr. Atlas. We tried-"

Blinded by rage and heartbreak, Ezra took his pocket knife out from his pants and slashed it against the mans throat.

The other men looked terrifed as the dead body hit the floor.

"This is the fucking mafia! We find professional criminals that have been hiding for years, but you can't find a fucking girl from Portland goddamn Oregon!" Ezra yelled, his anger reaching a height it never had before.

"We're sorry, Sir," one of the men almost whispered.

Ezra's eyes turned hot as tears burned them. He nodded slightly, "You're sorry?"

Ezra began taking slow strides towards the man, who was now uncomfortably shifting his weight from foot to foot.

"Sorry isn't going to bring her back," Ezra said, his voice quiet.

Then he sent the knife into the mans abdomen.

He hunched over in pain before Ezra removed the knife, and all of the other men started to back away in fear.

But Ezra was beyond angry. His temper is deadly; and he wanted other people to hurt, the same way he was hurting.

It happened in a blur to him. It felt like his eyes never even focused as he started to kill every man in the room.

He stabbed them, punched them, snapped their necks. He got punched and kneed back in the process, his left eye already turning purple.

His hands were stained red as he finally dropped the knife to the floor. He stared at what he had done.