FINDING THE BRIDE

The Missing Women

Chapter 2 — The Missing Woman

The penthouse was silent when Jake Henry opened his eyes the next morning.

For a few seconds, he remained still, staring at the ceiling while a painful headache pulsed behind his eyes.

Something felt wrong.

Very wrong.

He groaned softly and sat up, rubbing his forehead.

The whiskey bottle on the table was half empty.

His body felt unusually heavy.

Jake glanced beside him.

The bed was empty.

“Teresa,” he called lazily.

No answer.

He frowned.

Usually, she woke up early after nights like yesterday. She would move quietly around the apartment trying not to anger him further.

Jake reached for his phone and checked the time.

9:47 AM.

His eyebrows pulled together immediately.

Teresa never slept this late.

Annoyed, he climbed out of bed and walked toward the bathroom.

Empty.

“Teresa!”

Still no response.

Jake’s irritation slowly turned into confusion.

He walked through the penthouse checking each room.

Kitchen.

Balcony.

Guest room.

Nothing.

Then he noticed it.

The wardrobe door was slightly open.

Jake walked toward it slowly.

Half the shelves were empty.

His jaw tightened.

“No…”

He opened drawers aggressively one after another.

Clothes gone.

Shoes gone.

Her perfume gone.

The passport he once saw inside the drawer—

Gone.

Jake’s breathing changed instantly.

“She wouldn’t dare,” he muttered.

He grabbed his phone quickly and dialed her number.

Switched off.

He called again.

Still off.

The tension inside him exploded violently.

Jake threw the phone across the room, shattering it against the wall.

“Damn it!”

His chest rose heavily as anger flooded through him.

She left.

Teresa had actually left him.

For several seconds, he simply stood there trying to process it.

Then suddenly another realization hit him.

The drink.

That strange heaviness last night.

Jake walked quickly toward the minibar and stared at the whiskey bottle.

His eyes darkened dangerously.

“She drugged me.”

A bitter laugh escaped him.

For the first time in years, someone had outsmarted him.

Teresa.

Quiet, emotional Teresa.

Jake grabbed the bottle and smashed it onto the floor.

Glass exploded across the marble tiles.

His breathing became harsher as rage burned through him.

“How dare she,” he whispered.

But beneath the anger was something else.

Panic.

Jake had always controlled how relationships ended.

Women cried.

Women begged.

Women stayed.

Or he left first.

But Teresa escaped.

The thought bruised his ego more painfully than he expected.

He ran a hand through his messy hair before storming toward his office downstairs inside the penthouse.

Within minutes, he was making calls.

“I want airport records checked,” he barked into the phone.

“Yes, Mr Henry.”

“And find her friends. Every single one.”

“Immediately, sir.”

Jake ended the call before grabbing another phone.

This time he called security downstairs.

“Did Teresa leave last night?”

“Yes, sir,” the nervous guard answered. “Around midnight.”

“And you let her leave?”

“We thought—”

“I don’t pay you to think!”

Silence followed.

Jake hung up furiously.

His reflection in the office mirror caught his attention briefly.

Bloodshot eyes.

Unshaven jaw.

Anger radiating from every part of him.

For a moment, he looked exactly like the man his mother once feared.

The thought irritated him instantly.

He turned away sharply.

By noon, Jake was already driving through Cape Town searching for answers himself.

The city moved normally around him while chaos grew inside his chest.

Luxury cars filled the streets near the waterfront.

Tourists laughed outside cafés.

Businessmen walked confidently through the city center.

Meanwhile, Jake felt like something valuable had been stolen from him.

His phone rang again.

“Speak,” he answered coldly.

“We checked the airport records,” his assistant said carefully. “Teresa boarded an international flight last night.”

“To where?”

A pause followed.

“Italy.”

Jake’s grip tightened around the steering wheel.

Italy.

So she planned this carefully.

“Find out exactly where she landed.”

“We’re trying, sir.”

“Try harder.”

He ended the call again.

For the next two months, Jake searched.

Not publicly.

Not desperately.

But obsessively.

He used connections.

Private investigators.

Social media.

Bank records.

Nothing.

Teresa Moretti disappeared completely.

It was as if she never existed.

And slowly, the frustration began poisoning him from the inside.

His temper worsened.

Employees feared speaking to him.

Several women he casually brought home quickly stopped returning after witnessing his explosive moods.

Yet strangely, he never touched another woman violently again after Teresa left.

Not because he suddenly changed.

But because something about her escape unsettled him deeply.

At night, Jake often found himself sitting alone in his penthouse staring at the empty side of the bed.

Not missing her.

No.

At least that was what he told himself.

He simply hated losing.

That was all.

One cold afternoon, Jake parked outside his jewelry company in central Cape Town.

The modern building reflected wealth and power perfectly, just like the Henry name itself.

Inside, employees immediately straightened when he entered.

“Good afternoon, Mr Henry.”

Jake barely acknowledged them.

He walked directly toward the design department where dozens of workers sat polishing jewelry pieces for an upcoming fashion show.

The room instantly became tense.

Jake picked up a diamond necklace from one of the desks.

“This clasp is uneven,” he said coldly.

The young designer paled immediately. “I—I’ll fix it.”

“You should’ve fixed it before I saw it.”

“Sorry, sir.”

Jake tossed the necklace back onto the desk carelessly before continuing through the room.

Everything irritated him lately.

Noise.

People.

Mistakes.

Questions.

Even breathing too loudly near him seemed annoying.

“Sir,” his assistant rushed toward him nervously. “Your father called. He wants to see you.”

Jake sighed heavily.

“Where?”

“At the café near the waterfront.”

“Fine.”

An hour later, Jake entered the luxury café overlooking the ocean.

The smell of roasted coffee filled the elegant space while soft jazz played quietly in the background.

At the corner table sat Mr Henry Jones.

Even in his late fifties, the man carried power effortlessly.

Expensive suit.

Sharp eyes.

Controlled posture.

People respected Henry Jones because he built an empire from nothing.

His fashion company dominated luxury markets across South Africa and beyond.

And unlike Jake, Mr Henry understood discipline.

“Late again,” Mr Henry said calmly as Jake sat down.

“I was working.”

“You look terrible.”

Jake smirked faintly. “Nice seeing you too, Father.”

A waitress approached carefully.

“The usual, Mr Henry?”

“Yes,” the older man answered before glancing at Jake.

“Whiskey?” the waitress asked him quietly.

Jake paused briefly before shaking his head.

“Coffee.”

Mr Henry noticed immediately but said nothing.

Once the waitress left, silence settled between them for a moment.

Finally, Mr Henry spoke.

“How is the jewelry collection for my fashion show?”

Jake leaned back in his chair.

“Almost complete.”

“It better be. International buyers are attending this year.”

“It’ll be perfect.”

Mr Henry studied his son carefully.

Jake looked exhausted.

Dark circles rested beneath his eyes, and tension lived permanently across his face now.

“Still searching for the girl?” Mr Henry asked suddenly.

Jake’s expression hardened immediately.

“No.”

A lie.

Mr Henry could always tell.

“You’ve changed since she left.”

Jake laughed coldly. “Don’t start.”

“I warned you years ago about your anger.”

“And I told you to stop interfering in my relationships.”

Mr Henry remained calm.

“Relationships?” he repeated quietly. “Is that what you call them?”

Jake’s jaw tightened.

The waitress returned with their drinks before quickly leaving again after sensing the tension.

Mr Henry stirred his coffee slowly.

“You’re twenty-five now.”

Jake already knew where this conversation was heading.

“No.”

“You haven’t even heard me.”

“I already know.”

Mr Henry sighed.

“When I helped you start your businesses, we made an agreement.”

Jake looked away toward the ocean.

“You promised to settle down.”

“I said I would try.”

“And you failed.”

Jake laughed bitterly. “Maybe women are the problem.”

Mr Henry’s eyes darkened sharply.

“No, Jacob,” he said firmly. “You are the problem.”

Silence fell heavily between them.

Jake looked irritated immediately.

“You think I don’t know people talk about me?”

“Then give them a reason to stop.”

Jake leaned forward.

“You think marriage will magically fix me?”

“No,” Mr Henry answered honestly. “But maybe the right woman can help you become a better man.”

Jake shook his head slowly.

“You sound ridiculous.”

“Your mother changed me.”

Jake’s expression shifted slightly at the mention of his late mother.

Elizabeth Henry.

The only person Jake ever saw his father truly love.

Mr Henry’s face softened briefly with memory.

“Before her, I was angry too,” he admitted quietly. “Cold. Controlling. Then I met your mother.”

Jake looked unconvinced.

“And?”

“And she taught me that power means nothing if the people around you fear you.”

Jake looked down at his untouched coffee.

For some reason, Teresa’s frightened eyes flashed through his mind again.

He pushed the thought away instantly.

Mr Henry continued carefully.

“You’re becoming a dangerous man, Jake.”

Jake stood up immediately.

“I’m not having this conversation.”

“Sit down.”

“No.”

Mr Henry’s voice became colder.

“You made a deal with me. If you wanted my money to build your empire, you would marry before twenty-six.”

Jake stared at him silently.

“I’m done waiting,” Mr Henry continued. “Since you clearly cannot choose wisely yourself… I will choose for you.”

Jake laughed in disbelief.

“You can’t be serious.”

“I am.”

“You want me to marry a stranger?”

“I want you to stop destroying yourself.”

Jake’s anger slowly returned.

“You don’t control my life.”

Mr Henry stood slowly too.

“No,” he replied calmly. “But I can control whether your businesses continue surviving.”

Jake’s eyes narrowed instantly.

“You wouldn’t.”

“Try me.”

For the first time in years, uncertainty crossed Jake’s face.

Mr Henry adjusted his suit calmly.

“Your time for childish decisions is over,” he said quietly. “Now it’s my turn.”

Then he walked away, leaving Jake standing alone beside the table.

Outside the café windows, the ocean crashed violently against the rocks below.

And for the first time in a very long time—

Jake Henry felt something dangerously close to losing control.