They never met...

chapter 21- DEN OF VIPERS

A/N: here new chapter for my dear readers, our story "they never met" is approaching 9000 reads and that's my way of celebrating it

Happy reading 🥰 😁 🎉 😁

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Jagjeet's pov:

My heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my ribs as I burst into Mahima's office. The lingering tension from our earlier clash hung heavy in the air, a silent storm waiting to unleash.

"Ma'am," I gasped, sucking in a much-needed breath. "I think I have a lead. A solid one."

Mahima, her back ramrod straight, glanced up from the files sprawled across her desk. Her gaze was guarded, a steely glint in her eyes reflecting the harshness that had become her default setting.

"Spit it out, Mr. Singh," she snapped. "My time is valuable."

The sting of her words, laced with a chilling indifference, was a familiar ache. Swallowing past the lump in my throat, I launched into my explanation.

"There's a high-profile informant," I said, my voice tight. "He claims the cartel has deep pockets, powerful connections – politicians, business houses, the whole rotten lot."

A flicker of surprise crossed her face, but it was quickly masked by a sardonic smile. "So, Mr. Singh," she drawled, her voice dripping with disdain, "afraid of a little pressure?"

My jaw clenched. "Pressure?" I scoffed. "No, Ma'am. This is different. We're talking about heavyweights here. People who can bury careers with a whisper, silence dissent with a single phone call. These are dangerous players."

Mahima leaned back in her chair, her eyes narrowing to predatory slits. "And you're suggesting we back down? That we let these so-called 'powerful' people continue poisoning our city with their drugs?"

"No, Ma'am," I countered, forcing my voice to remain firm despite the tremor in my hands. "But we need a strategy. We can't just charge in like bulls in a china shop."

Her gaze held mine, a challenge burning deep within. "Strategic, or are you simply looking for an excuse to play it safe, Mr. Singh?" she challenged, her voice laced with an icy bite. "Another chance to avoid confrontation, another opportunity to sidestep failure?"

The barb hit its mark, sharp and agonizing. Memories of our past, the bitter words that had shattered the love we once shared, flooded my mind. "This isn't about me, Mahima," I rasped, a flicker of my old familiarity slipping through the professional mask I wore.

But her eyes remained cold, devoid of any recognition of the man she once knew. "Isn't it, Jagjeet?" she countered, her voice laced with a bitter truth. "You've always been a coward. A coward in love, and a coward in admitting it."

The accusation hung heavy in the air, a sucker punch to my gut. My mouth opened to deny it, to explain the tangled web of ambition, fear, and a misplaced sense of protecting her that had led me to push her away all those years ago. But the words died on my lips, choked by the weight of my past actions.

Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to focus on the case, on the bigger picture. "Mahima," I said, my voice low and determined, "this informant could be our key. But we need to tread carefully. If these names are true, exposing them will be a war."

Mahima's pov:

Jagjeet's words, heavy with conviction, hung in the air. "If these names are true, exposing them will be a war," he said. The raw sincerity in his voice held a power that demanded my attention. The anger that had flared in my chest moments ago began to simmer down, replaced by a steely resolve mirroring his own.