4] You're Now My Property.

 Present Day...

Forty-Seven Hours After Their Conversation....

"How much Ezekiel?" Cedes sat on the sofa watching him pace up and down in the living room.  

 Leaning forward, she rested her elbows on her knees as she bounced them up and down. She came across a foreclosure letter this morning that she found hidden inside his favourite book on the coffee table. She confronted him an hour ago over breakfast and wouldn't take the poor excuse he gave her as a proper explanation. 

"Three hundred thousand." He stopped and looked at her. 

"How, how did you get so behind in the payments?" She asked him, shocked. 

Ezekiel Williams is the detective that handled her parents' case. 'A crime of passion' that put her in foster care for eight years. He was her guardian angel who came to her rescue when she found herself in deep trouble. He took her in, put her through school, and gave her a third chance at life. She owed him her life and loved him like an older brother. She had planned on confiding in him about her marriage. But, she couldn't seem to find the right time or words to do so.

"Putting you through university and therapy wasn't cheap, kid; the interest and taxes just kept piling up, and I couldn't afford to make the payments." He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. 

"Why didn't you tell me sooner? I could've tried to help." She inquired him, devastated that he didn't confide in her. 

"Because I didn't want you to think you had a hand in me losing the house. This has nothing to do with you and I wish you never found it " 

He sat across from her on the sofa and slid the foreclosure letter onto the table. He sat back in his chair, looking up and massaging his temples. With his misfortunes always lurking in the shadows, the stress was really starting to take its toll on him.

"What are we going to do Zeke?" Her bottom lip trembled as she took in his demeanor.

He looked like a lost puppy who had exhausted all of his options to save his home. Being a homicide detective didn't mean jack-shit to the bank. They didn't cut you any slack knowing you spent every day and night on the job, eradicating the scum of the earth; trying their best to make the world a safer place for their children to grow up in.

Some people just truly suck. 

"I don't know kid. I honestly haven't got a damn clue." He growls, mildly. 

Sedar climbed the stairs that led to his wife's whereabouts. The new contract was tucked into his breast pocket. He had given her forty-eight hours to gather herself and return to him, acknowledging their agreement. True to his word, he found her with assistance from the Manson Brothers, keeping his promise. 

He knocked on the door, stepped back, and tucked his hands into his pocket. When the door jerked back his wife stood there with wide eyes as she gasped. She quickly closed the door on him, and with sharp reflexes, he slid his foot through the threshold prohibiting her from slamming the door in his face. 

He stared at her with narrowed eyes and thin lines around his mouth. His nostrils flared as he expressed his displeasure with her behaviour.

"Is that any way to greet your husband, Askim?" He said hoarsely, stepping back

"I told you I wanted a fucking divorce." She grounded out, trying to keep her voice low at the same time. 

"Evet, but as I previously stated. I'll give you forty-eight hours to come to your senses, or else..." He spread his arms out in front of her, demonstrating the implications of her defiance.

"Your groom has come." He winked at her. 

She stepped outside, closing the door behind her.

"How did you find me?" She scowled, glaring at him. 

"It's a superpower that I now possess, to always know my wife's current location." He gave her a charming smile.

"Excellent, I have a stalker who will not divorce me. My wildest dreams have come true." She muttered and he chuckled as she rolled her eyes.

"Look, you really need to leave. The owner of this house is a detective, and you'll quit and forget about me if you know what's good for you." She said impatiently.

She looked up and down the street, hoping they weren't drawing too much attention to themselves, she despised being the topic of neighborhood gossip. 

He straightened with his hands forming into fists at his side. 

"You never mentioned anything about you having a lover waiting for you at home." He glared at her. 

Infidelity, in his opinion, was the point of no return. It irritated him greatly, and he blamed himself for not conducting a background check on her first. 

She looked at him with wide eyes and burst out laughing, trying to muffle the sound behind her hands. Her eyes welled up with tears as she laughed at his obscene remark. 

"You're way out of line, buddy."She wiped the corner of her eyes as she sobered from her laughter. 

"Hayir, (no) this is me being very calm about the situation, right now," he retorted. "You're an Ozturk, and the last thing I want is for you to tarnish my reputation."

She exclaimed, "Offensive!" and stepped forward, getting up in his face.

"Look, Mister!" She began.

"I'm not sure where you get the idea that you can show up and call me an Ozturk when I've clearly stated that I want a divorce." Anger coursed through her limbs, causing her palm to twitch.

"But it's true," He stepped closer towards her, "You are an Ozturk." He took another step and she moved back from him, her back colliding with the handrail. "You're MY wife, whether you like it or not," he caged her in with his arms, "So you better start getting used to it, Askim." (My love) He firmly stated, leaving no room for a debate. 

As she stood there glaring at him, the corner of his mouth turned upwards and his dick twitched. Nobody had ever spoken to him as she did, and he found it quite refreshing, a turn-on if he was, to be honest.

He leaned in close to her, his sky-blue eyes glistened with dominance and she swallowed her bitter words. "You are now my property." He clearly stated and crushed his lips harshly against hers.

He wasn't kissing her for pleasure; he was simply asserting his dominance over her and wanted her to learn her place between them, pronto.

The front door unexpectedly jerked open and Ezekiel was met with an erotic scene, he believed to be shared between two lovers.

He tapped Sedar on the back, "Who the fuck are you?!" He growled with his hands clenching into tight fists. 

Sedar tore his lips from Mercedes, he took a step forward, drawing her behind him possessively, straightening his stance, and loomed over Ezekiel, who was a couple of feet shorter than him. 

"I'm her husband, who the FUCK are you?" He asked darkly, his chest rising and falling heavily as he turned to face her with his eyes narrowed into thin slits and a snarl leaving his lips.

"Shit!" She muttered, attempting to flee the scene of a possible homicide in the making.