Chapter 9

Isaias ended the call and turned to find his twin brother, Icarus, who was restraining David by covering his mouth. Isaias approached them casually, engrossed in his mobile phone.

"Gosh... You've got quite the set of pipes, huh? You startled our queen with your screaming. Can't you hold your tongue for a while?" Isaias asked irritably, his deadpan glare piercing through David, who had tears streaming down his face and numerous bruises on his body, indicating he had been severely beaten.

As Icarus released David, the latter fell to the floor.

"Tut... Tut... He's made a mess of my hands," Isaias complained, shaking his hand as if it were tainted. He then took a tissue to clean his hands meticulously.

"We should teach him a lesson for startling our queen, shouldn't we?" Icarus suggested, his gaze meeting Isaias's, who sported a mischievous smirk on his lips.

Isaias squatted down to David's level and yanked him up by his hair, causing David to scream in pain.

"What should we do with you?" Isaias asked, his demeanor menacing.

"You know what the pack leader did. You've been around him all the time. What did you do to get yourself fired? Did you try to get your hands on his funds or something? You know, David, I pity you. You showed loyalty to him, but what did you get in return? Nothing, right? Or... did he pay you a hefty sum to keep quiet?" Isaias interrogated David, whose eyes widened, displaying a range of emotions.

"You guessed it right, Icarus... The pack leader paid him off," Isaias remarked, shoving David aside. He walked away after delivering a forceful kick to David's stomach, causing the latter to groan in pain.

"That's called psychology, Brother," Icarus proudly stated.

"Lock him up in the darkroom. Starve him to death, and don't even give him water," Icarus ordered a man who stood there motionless.

The extent of their power was evident. Despite leaving the pack twenty years ago, they still held significant influence, as demonstrated by their ability to kidnap members with important positions. It suggested that someone with an influence equal to that of the Pack Leader might be assisting them from within the pack.

David was forcibly taken away by the man following Icarus's orders, despite his desperate pleas to be released.

It was the same old factory where they had previously detained two other kidnapped individuals. In the eerie silence, the sound of approaching footsteps reached their ears.

"Did you invite someone?" Icarus inquired, but Isaias shook his head. Soon, a young man stood before them, glaring at the twins.

"You two... Mixed blood... How dare you use our old factory for your dirty work?" the newcomer accused, pointing directly at Icarus and Isaias. Annoyance filled the twins' eyes as they rolled them in response.

"If you'd asked, I could've arranged a place in the city center. You know, you could be a real threat there," Joseph Martinez said with a creepy smile.

"You're so generous, Joseph Martinez. But don't you realize that you'll become the pack leader's enemy if he finds out about your assistance?" Icarus inquired.

"I don't mind. I despise him. Even if they kick me out of the pack, I don't care," Joseph replied, shrugging his shoulders.

"You sick bastard," Isaias commented, making a disgusted face.

"What about you, buddy? Don't you two crave blood and flesh? You two aren't saints either," Joseph smirked, his tone mocking.

"Whatever. Where's Uncle? Does he know we're using the factory? He's a law-abiding citizen, and he doesn't like going against pack rules," Icarus inquired, his expression serious.

"He's with your dad, catching up on their old days. He abandoned this factory a long time ago. It's under my control now, so don't worry. You can use it as much as you want," Joseph assured Icarus, patting his shoulder. They walked out of the factory.

"Wanna have some fun at the bar?" Joseph suggested.

"Sure, why not?" Isaias smirked.

"But we shouldn't expose ourselves too much. We can't alert them, not until we know every detail," Icarus cautioned.

"Then let's head to my private bar. There will be very few people who don't know you two. Don't worry; it's quite safe there as well," Joseph suggested.

The twins hummed in agreement, and they departed for Joseph's private bar, eager for a change of scenery. Driving their cars, they reached their destination soon.

In the dimly lit corner of the city, nestled away from the bustling streets, there existed the Private Bar owned by Joseph. It was a place shrouded in mystique, known only to a select few who had earned the privilege to enter its hallowed doors. This establishment was not like the crowded, noisy bars that dotted the city; it was an intimate haven, the brainchild of a single individual who craved a different kind of nightlife. They walked in. The twin's eyes wandered around noticing everything.

Joseph had carefully curated every detail of the bar, from the plush leather armchairs to the vintage whiskey selection that adorned the mahogany shelves. Only those fortunate enough to receive a coveted invitation from Joseph himself could step into this exclusive world.

“You are such a rich bastard, aren't you?” Isaias said, looking around.

“Thanks to my dad. I can open a few bars like this around the city.” Joseph shrugged his shoulders.

Inside, the atmosphere was one of sophistication and refinement. The low hum of conversation filled the air as a handful of patrons savored their drinks in hushed tones. Candlelight flickered softly, casting a warm glow upon the faces of those lucky enough to secure a seat. The bartender, a skilled mixologist, was a silent observer, ready to craft the perfect cocktail to match each guest's desires.

This Private Bar of Joseph was not just a place for socializing; it was a sanctuary where people came to escape the chaos of the outside world. Here, the outside world's troubles seemed to fade away as patrons reveled in the feeling of being a part of an elite circle. Conversations were held in whispers, secrets exchanged discreetly, and the bond among the few regulars was unbreakable.

It was not about the number of patrons but the quality of their presence. In Joseph's private bar, it wasn't the number of patrons that mattered, but the richness of the experience that left an indelible mark on those fortunate enough to enter its exclusive realm.