A PASTOR'S BETRAYAL
PART 6
Grace sat by the window of her empty mansion, staring at the rain as it painted crooked lines down the glass. Three months had passed since the divorce. Three months of silence from her children. Three months of Michael’s unanswered calls piling up in her voicemail.
The house was too big. Too quiet.
She barely ate. Barely slept.
The only person who still visited was Pastor Gideon.
A knock at the door startled her.
Pastor Gideon stood there, his smile wide, his eyes gleaming as they swept over her disheveled appearance—the unwashed hair, the wrinkled clothes, the dark circles under her eyes.
"Sister Grace," he said, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. "You look... tired."
Grace wrapped her arms around herself. "I haven’t been sleeping well."
The pastor sighed, shaking his head sadly. "The devil is attacking your peace. But don’t worry—God has shown me how to help you."
He placed a heavy hand on her shoulder, his grip just a little too tight.
They sat in the living room; Grace curled into herself on the couch while the pastor paced like a preacher at the pulpit.
"The church is building a new prayer retreat," he said, his voice swelling with false passion. "A holy place where broken souls like yours can find healing."
Grace blinked up at him. "That sounds... nice."
Pastor Gideon smiled. "It will be. But we need your help, Sister Grace. God has placed it on my heart to ask you for a seed offering."
He pulled out a brochure with glossy pictures of the planned retreat—a grand building with marble floors and golden accents.
Grace frowned. "How much?"
The pastor’s grin widened. "Thirty million naira."
Grace’s breath caught. That was more than half of what Michael had given her.
But the pastor leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "This is your chance to buy back God’s favor, Grace. After everything—the divorce, your children abandoning you—don’t you want to be right with the Lord again?"
Grace’s hands trembled.
She thought of Sarah’s laughter. Michael’s arms around her. The family she threw away.
Maybe... maybe this was her punishment. Maybe giving this money would fix things.
She nodded slowly.
Pastor Gideon’s eyes glinted.
Two weeks later, he returned.
This time, he arrived with a prayer group—three women from the church who circled Grace, laying hands on her, speaking in tongues.
"You have a spiritual blockage," the pastor declared. "A curse from your past life is stopping your blessings!"
Grace flinched as the women’s fingers pressed into her skin.
"How... how do I break it?" she whispered.
Pastor Gideon sighed, as if burdened by the weight of her sin. "It will require a mighty sacrifice. Twenty million naira. To cleanse your spirit."
Grace’s stomach twisted. That was nearly all she had left.
But the women nodded solemnly, their eyes wide with manufactured concern.
"God is waiting for your obedience, Sister Grace," one murmured.
Tears spilled down Grace’s cheeks.
She wrote the check.
A month passed.
Grace’s account was almost empty.
She hadn’t paid her electricity bill. The fridge was bare. The mansion felt like a tomb.
When Pastor Gideon came again, she was sitting in the dark.
"Sister Grace," he said, his voice oozing false sympathy. "You look worse."
Grace didn’t answer.
The pastor sat beside her, sighing heavily. "I’ve been praying for you. God has revealed the final step to your freedom."
Grace turned hollow eyes toward him.
"You must sell this house," he said. "And give the money to the church. It’s the last stronghold of your past life. As long as you live here, the devil will torment you."
Grace’s lips parted in shock.
This house was all she had left.
But the pastor pressed on, his voice smooth as poison. "Your children left you, Grace. Michael abandoned you. But the church has stayed. I have stayed. Who else do you have?"
Grace’s breath came in shallow gasps.
No one.
She had no one.
The papers were signed.
The house sold.
Grace handed every penny to Pastor Gideon, her hands shaking.
He smiled, patting her cheek like a child. "You’ve done well, Sister Grace. God is pleased."
Then he left.
And he never came back.
Grace sat on the floor of a tiny, rented apartment, her back against the wall, staring at her phone.
One missed call from Michael.
One voicemail from Sarah.
She couldn’t bring herself to listen.
Outside, the rain fell harder.
And for the first time, Grace realized the truth:
She had been the prey all along.
her bones clean. Now comes the hunger.......