Mine

Chapter 18

Namjoon sat at the head of the table, his fingers drumming a relentless rhythm against the wood. His eyes burned with barely restrained fury as he fixed them on Taehyung, who sat in brooding silence across from him.

"Do you even understand the mess you've put us in?" Namjoon's voice was low, sharp, and brimming with venom. He didn't shout—he didn't need to. His tone alone was enough to make the room feel like a pressure cooker.

Taehyung didn't flinch. He sat back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest, his gaze fixed somewhere on the table. His jaw was tight, his face unreadable, like a fortress no one could breach.

"Not only have you been off the radar" Namjoon continued, his words cutting like a blade, "but you failed your assignment. That girl, Taehyung. She was supposed to be taken care of. And now? Now she's running loose, and we've got Raven breathing down our necks."

Seokjin shifted uncomfortably in his seat, exchanging a glance with Hoseok, whose brow furrowed in silent concern. Yoongi leaned back in his chair, his expression impassive but his eyes sharp, taking in every word, every reaction. Jungkook, perched on the edge of his seat, glanced between Namjoon and Taehyung like he was waiting for someone to throw the first punch.

But it was Jimin who was the quietest. His gaze never left Taehyung, studying him with the precision of a hawk. Something wasn't adding up. Taehyung wasn't the type to make careless mistakes. He was calculated, always two steps ahead—so why did he let this one slip through the cracks?

Jimin's thoughts swirled as Namjoon's voice grew harsher.

"Do you have anything to say for yourself?" Namjoon demanded, his patience hanging by a thread.

Still, Taehyung said nothing. His silence was infuriating, almost taunting, and yet there was something in his behaviour—something unspoken—that made Jimin's suspicion grow.

"Nothing?!" Namjoon slammed his hand on the table, the sharp crack echoing through the room. "You're jeopardizing everything we've worked for. Do you get that? One slip-up like this, and it could all come crashing down."

Taehyung's gaze finally lifted, his dark eyes locking onto Namjoon's. He didn't apologize. He didn't explain. He just stared, a quiet boldness simmering beneath the surface.

"Taehyung" Jimin spoke at last, his voice calm but probing, "why didn't you report back sooner? And why let the girl live? What's your angle?"

The room went still. All eyes turned to Jimin, who leaned forward slightly, his expression scrawled.

Taehyung's lips parted, but instead of answering immediately, he glanced over at Jimin, his eyes glinting with a strange amusement. There was something about the question that made the atmosphere even more tense, as if the truth wasn't just important but dangerous.

For a moment, Taehyung didn't respond. Then, a faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips—so brief it was almost invisible. "No angle" he said, his voice low and even. "Just a mistake."

Jimin didn't believe him. And neither, it seemed, did Namjoon.

His piercing gaze shifted to Jimin, who returned it with a silent question of his own. Their unspoken exchange lingered for a beat, the tension deep, before they both turned their attention back to Taehyung.

Taehyung's smirk deepened, mischief dancing in his dark eyes. He leaned back in his chair, exuding an infuriating confidence. "A mistake" he said, the words rolling off his tongue with a cocky lilt, "that's going to make you proud of me."

Namjoon's brow twitched, his temper barely restrained. "Proud of you? You've been slacking, Taehyung. Hiding in shadows. And now you've put us all at risk by not eliminating the girl when you had the chance. Why the hell would I be proud of that?"