Zack’s hotel room smelled of polished wood and money. A large bed sat at the center with crisp white sheets, and soft jazz hummed faintly from a speaker in the ceiling.

This was certainly one of the top rooms to find oneself in. Zack had spared no expense to ensure his trip to Ghana was a cozy and comfortable one, and this room was proof of that.

As cozy as this room was, though, the atmosphere was anything but.

Zack stood near the window, arms folded, his back to Phyllis. She sat stiffly on the couch, wringing her fingers in her lap, her face wet with silent tears.

The moment they arrived at the hotel, Phyllis had tried her best to escape without having to deal with any questions Zack might have. Her older brother, however, was way ahead of her, and had ordered her to sit down and tell him everything going on.

Her attempts to worm out of it had proven unsuccessful; Zack’s temper did not take long to make its presence known once he yelled at her to open up. Reluctantly, she gave in, narrating almost everything she had experienced at the hands of Aaron.

And as she sat there, she felt deeply drained and exhausted; the confession had taken everything out of her.

“So… you’re telling me,” Zack finally spoke up, his voice razor-sharp, “that this man you call a husband… this-this… this f**king clown, is sleeping with another woman, blaming you for it, and constantly gaslighting you like some weak-brained puppet? Yet you’re sitting there defending him?”

Phyllis swallowed hard. “He’s still my husband, Zack.”

“So what?” Zack spun around, his eyes blazing. “And so what? Did your marriage vows say ‘Let him trample upon your soul and smile through it all?’ Huh? Is that what it said? Did it say, ‘Be a doormat for Jesus’? Coz I was there, and I certainly didn’t hear s**t like that!”

“Zack, don’t speak like that,” she pleaded, her voice shaking. “Please.”

“Speak like what? Piss off! I’m speaking facts, Phyllis. And you know it. You’re living with a cheat. A monster in sheep’s clothing. A prime manipulator. This is a man who doesn’t even like you, much less love you. And he shows you every f**king day how much he doesn’t like or respect you. But instead of packing your bags and finding freedom, you’re playing the loyal soldier and defending him. Have you lost your senses or something? What kind of Stockholm syndrome crap is this?”

She rose to her feet suddenly, voice barely above a whisper. “Zack, look, it… it-it might be bad… I won’t lie. But there’s… there’s purpose in it–”

Zack’s mouth dropped open, his laugh bitter. “Purpose? Purpose?! Are you f**king kidding me? There’s purpose in being treated like an idiot every freaking day? Oh my goodness! Let me guess, some so-called oil-soaked prophet told you this is your destiny, right? That staying with this narcissist will open heaven’s windows?”

Phyllis groaned and turned away, biting her lip. “This is exactly why I didn’t want to tell you, Zack. You just don’t understand spiritual matters. All you ever do is just slander men of God and invite curses on yourself.”

Zack moved forward, his tone rising. “Curses? Cut the bulls**t, Phyllis! You think I’m scared of some pastor’s poetic hex? Give me a break! Curses don’t exist. Never did, and never will. They’re just scare tactics for keeping people like you blind and docile. Religion’s greatest invention, I swear.”

“Stop it! Stop saying things like that!” she shouted, tears streaming again. “Don’t provoke God’s wrath upon yourself, Zack!”

“Shut up!” he roared, his voice filling the entire room. “Shut up, Phyllis! Just shut your stupid mouth!”

The silence that followed was deafening. Phyllis stood frozen, her lips trembling, the sting of her brother’s voice still echoing in her bones.

Zack’s breathing was heavy, his hands clenched into trembling fists. He stared at Phyllis as if he were looking at a stranger. “F**k off with your foolishness about curses! Every day, the same old s**t. Meanwhile, if you lick their feet, promises upon promises of blessings that never come! Tell me, where were all your so-called blessings when I was being taken advantage of in that youth church, huh? When I was made to believe that ‘touch not my anointed’ meant shutting up and smiling while I was manipulated?”

Phyllis opened her mouth, but he was just getting started.

“Where was this great God’s blessing when I literally emptied my student savings to sow a ‘prophetic seed’ to that fraud, and he went and bought a brand new car for himself when he already had three more? Remember when I was lying in a hospital bed, struck down by that horrible bout of anaemia? Remember how many of those ‘holy men’ even came to check on me? None. Zero. Zilch. Not even a damn text message from any of them to say they’re praying for me to recover. But they hounded me day and night to sow a seed for the head pastor so that I’ll be blessed. None ever showed up in my life. None at all. Blessing my ass.”

“Zack…”

“And what about Miriam?” His voice cracked. “You remember Miriam, don’t you? The one girl who truly made me believe love wasn’t a joke? You remember how much I loved her, don’t you? What did Pastor Williams say to me? That she wasn’t God’s will for me, and I needed to end things with her. I broke things off with her. Guess who married her just nine months later? Him. That same f**king hypocrite. Where was the blessing in that? Huh? I’m still here with no woman in my life. Please, f**king miss me with that stupid talk!”

Phyllis winced.

Those two events really broke Zack, to be fair. That feeling of being ignored on his sick bed and manipulated out of a potentially beautiful relationship had done a serious number on him, thus the reason he walked away.

But surely that was in the past now, and God had a bigger plan…

Her voice trembled as she spoke. “But Zack… you… you don’t know what God may have saved you from by making you break up with Miriam…”

“WILL YOU SHUT THE F**K UP!” he barked, his voice volcanic.

She flinched, more tears springing to her eyes.

“What the hell, woman! Are you really that stupid? Coz I can’t believe this! You’re such an idiot! Yes, you’re my sister, but you’re an idiot! Seriously, Phyllis. Just shut your mouth for once and listen to yourself. You sound like a f**king brainwashed sheep. You’re so f**king gullible it’s embarrassing. You believe everything these scammers say without even pausing to use the mind you claim God supposedly gave you.”

She looked away, visibly shaken by his vicious teardown, but he wasn’t done.

“You’re every con artist’s wet dream, you know that? Foolishly loyal, ridiculously naïve, easy to guilt-trip, and stupidly addicted to suffering in the name of purpose.” He spat the last word. “You actually think your pain is holy. No wonder Aaron’s having a field day taking advantage of you. Because you’re so f**king dumb, it’s unbelievable! Christ, what a foolish girl you are!”

Phyllis could barely breathe now. This was what she had feared all along: a relentless lambasting at the hands of her unbelieving brother. They had had a number of these conversations over the years, and it always ended with him ruthlessly tearing her apart.

She recoiled as Zack leaned in closer, quieter but still fierce. “Now you listen to me, and listen very well. I don’t need any made-up prophecy to tell me what’s going on. This is a scam, Phyllis. A filthy, calculated scam. That man you married and this scammer called a prophet whispering in your ear, they’re playing you like a game. You might be too much of an idiot to see it, but I see it. And I’m going to prove it.”

“No… Zack, don’t—”

“You’re not gonna tell me what to do, Phyllis. Since you won’t use your head, I’ll just use mine for you. Now leave. I need some rest. It’s been a long ass flight from Philadelphia.”

“Zack, please–“

“I said leave, Phyllis! Leave! Get out of here. Go!”

She stood frozen for a second. Then, slowly, she turned and walked out of the room, her footsteps muffled against the plush carpet. She didn’t look back.

The door clicked shut.

Zack stood still for a few moments, chest rising and falling.

“This is all your fault, Mama,” he muttered. “Drumming all that bulls**t into our brains about God loving pastors more than everyone else. Look how much of a dumbass you’ve made out of Phyllis. Jesus Christ.”

Shaking his head, he then walked over to his suitcase, pulled out his phone, and searched for a specific number.

He sure was glad he had found that contact before leaving America. Now he could get his plan into motion.

He found the number and dialled.

After the third beep, the line connected.

“Hey, Mr. Akowuah? It’s me, Zack… yeah, just arrived in GH, I’m settling down. Yeah, what we spoke about before I left Philadelphia, I need you to start watching someone… His name’s Aaron Essel… yes, the Tete Munchies guy. I want everything: where he goes, who he speaks to, and especially if he’s in touch with any so-called ‘prophets.’ Don’t miss a thing. Let me know what you find as soon as you can… thanks. Bye.”

He hung up, his jaw set like stone.

The time had finally come.

The mission to bring down Aaron and this charlatan of a prophet had officially begun.

Well, Zack certainly doesn’t care about anyone’s feelings, that’s for sure. And this is where it probably unravels for Aaron and Amos…