Yoshiki Tanaka Novels & Stories

it all pointed to something bigger than a simple coincidence. As he leaned back in his chair, the door to his office creaked open, and his secretary, Tanaka, entered with a folder in hand. He had been waiting for this. Tanaka had been tasked with a delicate mission—gathering all the information he could about Haru Tanaka and his son, Hibiki. It was time to find out the truth. Tanaka placed the folder on Jiro’s desk with a quiet efficiency, her sharp eyes meeting his for a brief moment before she turned and exited the room. She had known the task was sensitive, even dangerous. It wasn’t just a matter of business. It was personal now.

He was never fit to run a pack. I arrived at the tombs. At first they appeared uninhabited, but once you understood the layouts of the maze like crypts, you realize that you could weave through them easily. A fire lit torch burned brightly at the entrance, and I took it making my way through the tomb. "Nikolai Rydor," an attendant's voice bounced off the walls of the tomb. "We've been expecting you." I nodded, going after her. And soon we came up upon the elders gathering.

"I am satisfied with the results they sent me to Paris. Their detective agency is the best." "It's a pleasure to serve you, Miss Jina Sotomayor. Now, allow me to present the rest of our investigation." An elderly man smiled as he handed her a folder and showed her a video. "This is Hamazaki Ankit, the only son of a traditional family whose trade has always been commerce. He is currently the director of technological projects at the Tanarro company, 27 years old, his hobby is playing golf and dating beautiful women. He studied at the same institute as Yukio Tanarro, and they have a fashion business together that is not doing well at all..."

Instead, a woman sat, sipping a martini, her black dress clinging to her curves, her glossy hair cascading in waves. She was gorgeous—high cheekbones, full lips, an aura that screamed power and sex appeal. She was Japanese, like Kaito. Her dark eyes locked on me with familiarity. Which was weird cause I know I've never met her before. “Oh, you must be the Lisa,” she said, her voice smooth and lightly accented. Her smile more smirk than warm. She stood, offering a manicured hand, her nails were blood-red. “I’m Hana Tanaka.” Confusion slammed into me harder. Tanaka—Kaito’s surname. My stomach twisted, a sick dread rising.

Daisy exclaimed, and I hand-shoved her to be mute. “Hmn hmn!” The CEO nodded. “This establishment is owned by my family, The Moranos. But run by me. Everyone is welcome to nest here. Clients. Friends. Enemies. Business associates, or whatever. There are over six thousand staff working in every sector of the establishment. The last opening we had was days back and we’ve gotten the right staff. But I will still fix you two somewhere. A section that will be best for both of you.” He sent his gaze to the man behind him. “Get me Matilda. Tell her, I need her right now,” he ordered.

And at the center of it all, undefeated, untouchable, was Kane Shawn. Standing at 6'5", with a body carved from years of brutal discipline, he was a titan among men. His blonde curls were damp with sweat, sticking to his forehead as he rolled his shoulders, his enormous arms flexing with ease. His skin glistened under the dim lights, his six-pack rippling with every movement. But it was his face that truly set him apart a masterpiece of sharp lines and perfect imperfections. His light blue eyes had the power to pierce through a man's soul, making even the most confident opponents hesitate. His lips, full and sinful, often twisted into a smirk that made women weak and men envious.

Sakura was praying very hard Jane would miraculously appear and sort out this mess when she heard a commotion on the other side. She looked up to see the famous Japanese designer Mr. Tachibana coming toward them, his long hair—dyed bleach blond—flying and his long white robe fluttering about him. Beside him was the woman Sakura had been waiting eagerly to meet in person, the woman who had given birth to her twenty-five years ago, Haruka Tanaka, also known simply as Ms. Ruka. She was tall, Sakura realized, with strong, angular face, and thin nose that sat nicely on her face. She was very beautiful.

Jake Carson I was exhausted. We’ve been up all morning and Danika hasn’t decided what outfit she wants to wear and Alison told me this is a daily thing. She was yelling a lot, after a point it was just noise to me. Just great! First, she couldn’t find the shoes that went with her outfit. Then when she finally found the ‘perfect’ shoes, she said they were too ‘cute’ to be paired with a normal outfit, so she decided that the shoes ‘deserve’ better and tried to find another outfit again.

Valerio nods at the right moments, asks questions, but I see him press his fingers to his temple again, his shoulders rigid beneath his suit jacket. I fall behind with the rest of the group, and that is when Kenji Tanaka, a young Nakamura executive falls in step beside me. He is tall for a Japanese man, broad-shouldered, with kind eyes and an easy smile, and speaks perfect English. "You were impressive this morning," he says. "The way you anticipated Mr. Cruz's needs, and the way you redirected the conversation when it stalled." I keep my expression neutral. "Thank you. I do my job."

Kei was the first one to introduce himself. "I'm Shun Tanaka, and we're sorry for making you feel awkward early in the morning." Shun gave her an apologetic smile. "And I'm Ban Kakeyama! Nice to meet you!" he chirped at Cherish. "And last but not the least, I'm Yu Ikezawa, the cutest and the youngest of all the guys here. I'm very glad to meet you." Yu was the last one to introduce himself, while flashing Cherish his signature million-dollar smile.