HOW THE COOKIE CRUMBLES

The Bull groggily opened his eyes, trying to remember where he was and how he got there. He was met with a sharp pain in his head and a sense of disorientation. As his vision cleared, he saw that he was tied to a chair, his wrists and ankles bound with rope.

He looked around, trying to take in his surroundings. He was in a dimly lit room, with no windows and only one door. The air was musty and dank, and The Bull could smell the scent of old sweat and decay.

Suddenly, a figure emerged from the shadows. It was the waiter, the same one who had been serving him drinks at the party. The Bull's eyes narrowed, trying to remember what had happened.

"You," The Bull growled, his voice low and menacing. "What have you done?"

The waiter smiled, a cold glint in his eye. "Your men are safe, for now," he said. "But you're going to stay here with me until you tell me everything I want to know about Victor Crane."

The Bull's eyes widened in surprise. "What do you want to know?" he asked, trying to stall for time.

The waiter leaned in, his eyes locked on The Bull's. "I want to know everything," he said. "Every detail, every plan, every move Victor Crane makes. And in return, I'll let you and your men go."

The Bull snorted. "You think I'd betray Victor that easily?" he said. "I'm loyal to him, and I'll never give you the information you want."

The waiter smiled again, a cold, calculating smile. "We'll see about that," he said. "You'd be surprised what people will do when they're motivated enough."

The Bull snorted, a mixture of disdain and amusement on his face. "It's pointless torturing me," he said. "I'll just commit suicide before I betray Victor."

Junta shook his head, a hint of a smile on his face. "No, no, no," he said. "I'm not barbaric. There are less bloody ways of getting information."

The Bull raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite himself. Junta pulled out a photo from his pocket and showed it to The Bull. The Bull's eyes widened in shock as he saw the photo of a young girl, smiling and happy.

"How...?" The Bull's voice trailed off, his eyes fixed on the photo.

Junta's smile grew wider. "I've been doing my research," he said. "I know all about your...secret. Your daughter."

The Bull's face went white, his eyes flashing with anger and fear. He had gone to great lengths to keep his daughter's existence a secret, using all his resources to protect her from his enemies. And now, this stranger had found out about her.

The Bull's mind was racing, trying to think of a way to protect his daughter. He knew that if Junta had found out about her, others could too. And he would do anything to keep her safe.

But he also knew that if he told Junta what he wanted to know, Victor Crane would make sure he was dead. The Bull's loyalty was to Victor, and betraying him would be a death sentence.

The Bull's face contorted in frustration as he weighed his options. He knew he had to protect his daughter, but he also knew he couldn't betray Victor. Not without suffering the consequences.

As Junta leaned in closer, The Bull's resolve hardened. He would do whatever it took to protect his daughter, even if it meant playing along with Junta's game.

"Everything you want is on a drive at my house," The Bull said finally, desperation creeping into his voice. "Just leave my daughter alone, please. Don't hurt her."

Junta nodded sympathetically, his expression softening slightly. "Don't worry, I won't harm your daughter," he said. "And someone will probably come in the next few hours and untie you, so you'll be free to go soon."

As Junta turned to leave, The Bull called out to him. "Wait," he said. "What business do you have with Victor?"

Junta turned back, a hint of a smile on his face. "I'm hoping he could lead me in the direction to find some pudding," he said, his tone deadpan.

The Bull's eyes widened in incredulity. "Pudding?" he repeated. "You're risking your life and mine over pudding?"

Junta shrugged. "It's a very specific kind of pudding," he said. "And I'm willing to go to great lengths to find it."

The Bull shook his head, still trying to process the absurdity of it all. "You're crazy," he muttered.

Junta chuckled and turned to leave, leaving The Bull to wonder what kind of person would go to such great lengths over a dessert.

Junta pulled up to The Bull's mini mansion, surrounded by lush greenery and a high wall that seemed to stretch on forever. He was greeted by a security guard who eyed him warily.

"Can I help you?" the guard asked, his hand resting on his hip near his gun.

Junta smiled charmingly and handed over a fake ID. "I'm here to pick up some documents for The Bull," he said, his tone confident. "He's expecting me."

The guard looked at the ID, then back at Junta. After a moment, he nodded and stepped aside. "Alright, you're cleared. Someone will escort you to the study."

Junta was led through the mansion's opulent foyer and down a hallway lined with expensive artwork. The study was a large room with dark wood paneling and a massive desk in the center. Junta spotted the drive on the desk, labeled "VC Operations".

The staff member who had escorted him nodded towards the drive. "There it is. Please, take it and leave."

Junta smiled and picked up the drive. "Thank you," he said, tucking it into his pocket.

With the drive safely in hand, Junta left the mansion, feeling a sense of satisfaction. He had gotten what he came for, and now it was time to use the information to further his own goals.

As he walked back to his car, Junta couldn't help but think about Victor's reaction when he found out that he had been betrayed. Junta had played him perfectly, and it was only a bluff to use his daughter as leverage to get the information he needed he usually avoids such underhanded tactics .

Junta's smile grew wider as he thought about the look on The Bull's face when he realized he had been outsmarted. It was a satisfying feeling, knowing that he had gotten the upper hand.

With the drive safely in his possession, Junta got into his car and drove away, leaving The Bull's mansion behind.