Chapter 171 – The Cemetery Meeting

Chapter 171 – The Cemetery Meeting
Katarina’s POV

“Holy shit, I’m freezing.”

That was the first thing Luce said when she walked through the front doors like she’d just returned from a weekend trip instead of being kidnapped. She was wrapped in a huge coat, hair messy, eyes sharper than ever.

“That bastard Mori?” she shouted the second she stepped in. “I swear to God, I’ll gut that son of a bitch myself!”

Valentino looked up from the couch, calm as ever. “Well, good morning to you too.”

“Don’t ‘good morning’ me,” Luce snapped. “They locked me in a cold room for two days. Two. Days. You know how hard it is to sleep on a floor that smells like bleach?”

I just stood there, watching her. She was still herself — fierce, unfiltered, all noise and chaos. But something in her eyes was different this time.

Vittorio stepped forward, voice even. “They didn’t hurt you?”

“No,” she said, throwing her arms out. “Fed me like I was on vacation. Soup, rice, and those stupid green teas. I almost started liking it before I remembered I was a prisoner.”

Valentino smirked. “So, luxury kidnapping. Nice.”

She turned and flipped him off. “Eat glass, Val.”

Then her gaze found me.

For a moment, the room went quiet. Her shoulders dropped slightly.

“Katarina,” she said, voice softer now. “Look… I know I’ve been a little bitch lately.”

I folded my arms. “A little?”

She winced. “Fine. A lot. I took your bracelet. I shouldn’t have. I was angry, and I wanted to hurt you. That’s not an excuse, but… I’m sorry.”

Her words hit differently — not loud, not forced, just tired. Honest.

I stared at her for a long moment before saying quietly, “You should’ve just asked for it.”

She looked down. “Yeah. I know.”

We stood there in awkward silence until she sighed and reached into her jacket pocket.

“They gave me something. Said to give it to Vittorio.”

He stepped closer, taking the folded paper from her hand. “What is it?”

“Instructions,” she said. “Said it’s time.”

He opened it. The note was typed in clean, small letters.

Location: Kyoto Cemetery — Italian Grounds.
8pm. Bring the Kitsune Girl.

I felt a chill crawl up my spine.

Vittorio’s eyes flicked to me. “You’re not going alone.”

“I wasn’t planning to,” I said.

Valentino cracked his neck. “A night cemetery meeting? Romantic.”

Luce rolled her eyes. “You three are insane. But whatever it is—they said they won’t wait long.”

Then she turned and walked off, muttering under her breath, “Next time I’m kidnapped, I’m taking a damn knife with me.”

The drive was silent. Fog rolled heavy through the narrow roads as we climbed the hill toward the cemetery. The headlights cut through the mist, shining on marble crosses and old iron gates.

Vittorio drove. Valentino sat in the front seat, legs stretched, gun across his lap.

“You really think they’ll show?” Valentino asked.

“They want her,” Vittorio said flatly. “They’ll show.”

I looked out the window. The world outside looked dead — no lights, no sound, just the crunch of gravel and our slow heartbeat of an engine.

When we reached the cemetery, the gates were already open.

Five black cars were parked inside, engines off. The fog was so thick it looked like smoke wrapping around gravestones. Cemeteries were where old rules and old families met — the kind of place deals get signed and blood remembers.

The men waiting weren’t like the usual mob types. No tattoos. No gold chains. Just quiet, precise movements — men who didn’t need to prove they were dangerous.

At the center stood an older man. Pale face, gray hair slicked back, coat buttoned up to his neck. He didn’t smile when we approached.

“Welcome,” he said in accented English. “You came.”

“I’m not one for ignoring invitations,” Vittorio said dryly.

The man nodded once. “I am Mori.”

I felt the air shift around us. That name. I remembered it from Estella’s confession — the man who’d handled her, who’d made her pretend to be Fiorella.

“You’ve caused a lot of chaos,” Vittorio said coldly.

Mori’s eyes moved to me. “Not chaos. Correction.”

“What the hell does that mean?” Valentino asked.

“It means,” Mori said calmly, “the fox has wandered too far from home.”

I crossed my arms. “If you’re calling me a fox, save it. I’m not one of you.”

“You are,” he said quietly. “By blood. By birth. By spirit.”

“I have a family,” I said. “Right here.”

Valentino gave a small grin. “Damn right she does.”

Mori’s expression didn’t change. “Your blood belongs to the Kitsune House. You were taken from us as a child. Hidden among foreigners. But we found you again.”

“Congrats,” I said flatly. “Send a postcard next time.”

He stepped closer, but Vittorio moved in front of me instantly, blocking him.

“That’s close enough,” Vittorio said. His voice was low — warning low.

Mori’s eyes flicked to him briefly, then back to me. “We do not mean harm. We only wish for what belongs to us — the Kitsune map. It must be returned.”

“I don’t have it.”

“You know where it is,” he said, tone certain.

“I don’t care,” I said. “Whatever family abandoned me doesn’t get to make demands.”

For a moment, he just studied me. Then his voice softened. “You hate what you do not yet understand.”

“I understand perfectly,” I said. “You left me. I built my own life. And now I’m pregnant, and happy, and I don’t need you.”

Vittorio’s hand brushed my lower back, a silent support.

Something flickered in Mori’s eyes. He smiled faintly — almost proud. “Ah. So it’s true.”

“What’s true?” Vittorio asked sharply.

“The child,” Mori said. “The blood never lies. When she conceived, the House felt it. Her energy returned to the line.”

My breath hitched. “You’ve been watching me.”

He tilted his head. “Not watching. Protecting.”

“Don’t,” I snapped. “Don’t twist it.”

Mori’s face didn’t change. “We will not take her. Not now. But she will return. All Kitsune do. When the child is born, she will seek us on her own.”

I clenched my fists. “Never.”

He smiled softly, like he already knew I was lying. “When you see the truth of what you are, you will understand why you were taken. Why they feared you.”

“Feared me?” I repeated.

“Yes,” he said simply. “Because power frightens even those who love it.”

Vittorio stepped forward, voice dark. “You’re done talking.”

Mori nodded slowly. “For now.”

He glanced back at the men behind him. “Leave her be. For now. But remember this, Princess — blood always calls home.”

They began to walk away, fading into the fog like they were never there.

Valentino exhaled, muttering, “That was creepy as fuck.”

“Vittorio,” I said, my voice shaking slightly, “take me out of here.”

He didn’t argue. Just grabbed my hand and led me back toward the car.

When we reached it, I turned one last time. The cemetery was silent again — fog swallowing everything, graves barely visible.

They knew about the baby.
They knew about me.
And they believed I’d come back.

I pressed a hand against my stomach, protective and fierce.

“Never,” I whispered. I pressed my hand to my belly, then dug my nails into the leather of Vittorio’s palm. The car ate the fog and we drove—faster.

Vittorio started the car, headlights cutting through the dark as we drove away.

Valentino leaned back in his seat, muttering, “If I ever see another Japanese guy in a cemetery, I’m burning the whole country down.”

I didn’t laugh. My eyes stayed fixed on the fog disappearing in the mirror, the cold wind brushing over my face.

They thought they could predict me. Control me. Own me.

They had no idea who they were dealing with.