Rehab for SuperVillains (18+)-Chapter 81: Inky’s Ceramics Warehouse

The streets gave way to the industrial district, the air thick with the scent of oil and metal.

A faded sign loomed ahead— Inky’s Ceramics Warehouse—its letters peeling, the building squat and shadowed, its windows dark.

Rhea paused, raising a brow. "We getting new toilets?" she asked, her tone dry, a playful jab.

Kael chuckled, low and cryptic.

"Not yet." His arm slipped from her shoulders, his hand moving to her neck, fingers brushing the collar that hummed faintly, its tech suppressing her flames.

With a soft click, he unlocked it, the device falling into his palm, leaving her neck bare. Rhea’s eyes widened, her hand flying to her throat, feeling the absence, her pulse quickening.

"What—why?" she stammered, her voice rising, panic flickering in her amber eyes.

"You’re leaving me here? You said I had a month left—I don’t even know the way back!" Her words tumbled out, her body tensing, fear and betrayal flashing across her face.

Kael shushed her, stepping close, his hands cupping her face, his voice low and steady, hazel eyes locking onto hers.

"Hey, hey, relax. I’m not leaving you here. I need your powers, Rhea. Your fire. I need you ready to fight. Can you show me how strong you are?" His thumbs brushed her cheeks, grounding her, his sincerity cutting through her panic.

She swallowed, her breathing slowing, but her eyes searched his, still wary.

"Fight who? This ’someone’ for Freya—what’s the deal, Kael? Who are we meeting?"

He hesitated, his grin fading, the weight of the gamble settling in.

"A contact," he said, voice quieter, more serious. "Someone who can help Freya take the next step—get her out of that collar, maybe even onto the hero path like you. But they’re... not exactly friendly."

Rhea’s smirk returned, a spark of her old defiance flaring. "Trouble? Good. I will show you how to fight." Her hands flexed, a faint heat shimmering around her fingers, her powers stirring now that the collar was gone.

"But you owe me answers, Kael. No more cryptic bullshit after this."

"Deal," he said, his grin returning, though his gut twisted. He glanced at the warehouse, its dark bulk looming like a warning, and took a breath. "Let’s do this, Rhea. Stay sharp."

Kael and Rhea crept along its perimeter, their breaths shallow, the cold biting their skin through their clothes.

The air smelled of clay and oil, the silence broken only by the soft crunch of gravel under their boots.

Kael’s hazel eyes scanned the shadows, every sense on edge.

"Why’re we sneaking like rats?" Rhea hissed, her voice loud but hushed, her amber eyes glinting with impatience as she crouched beside him. "Let’s barge in, kick their asses, and be done with it."

Kael shushed her, his hand flashing to her arm, grip firm but gentle. "Keep it down," he whispered, voice low, irritation creeping in.

"These guys are strong—stronger than you think. You can’t take them all alone."

Rhea’s smirk was pure defiance, her head tilting as she leaned closer, her breath warm against his ear. "That a challenge, Kael?" Her tone was teasing, but her eyes burned, ready to ignite at the slightest spark.

Kael’s jaw tightened, a flicker of doubt crossing his mind.

Was bringing her a bad idea?

Rhea’s fire was a weapon, but her impulsiveness, her lack of fear and thought could torch his plan before it started.

He didn’t answer, just shot her a warning look and crept forward, dropping to his hands and knees to crawl toward a gap in the warehouse’s rusted wall, a jagged tear barely wide enough for them to slip through.

Rhea followed, too close, her face bumping his hips every time he paused to listen for sounds inside—footsteps, voices, anything.

The third bump was one too many, and he glared back, his hazel eyes narrowing in the dark.

"Seriously?" he whispered, voice sharp but low. "Watch it."

Rhea’s wry smile flashed, unapologetic, her amber eyes glinting with mischief.

"Sorry," she mouthed, but her grin said she wasn’t, not really.

Kael shook his head, refocusing, and squeezed through the gap, his body low to the ground, the cold concrete biting his palms.

Rhea slithered in behind him, her movements fluid, predatory, as they crouched in the shadows, the warehouse’s interior unfolding before them.

The space was a chaotic sprawl of ceramics—toilets, sinks, bathtubs stacked haphazardly, their white surfaces gleaming faintly under flickering fluorescent lights.

Villains sprawled across the mess, sleeping on makeshift beds—some curled in bathtubs, others slumped on machines, their snores a low rumble.

Kael counted at least a dozen, men and women, their clothes tattered, weapons glinting nearby.

But at the back, beyond the clutter, a different sound cut through—moans, rhythmic and raw, echoing off the walls.

Ah... AH... Ah...Ah... AH... Ah...Ah... AH... Ah... Harder... FUCK ME!

Kael’s curiosity spiked, his pulse quickening as he crawled closer, staying low, the shadows his shield.

Rhea slid beside him, her shoulder brushing his, and let out a low whistle, her eyes locked on the source.

A woman—black-haired, her low-cut bob framing a sharp, flushed face, salivating—knelt between two men, her body rocking as they fucked her vigorously from both ends.

Her skin glistened with sweat, her breasts bouncing with each thrust, one man’s cock plunging deep into her pussy, the other stretching her ass, their grunts mingling with her loud, unrestrained moans.

Her hands gripped his chest, nails digging in, her face a mix of ecstasy and hunger, lips parted as she gasped, "Harder... fuck, harder..."

Rhea’s brows lifted, her smirk widening as she whispered, "Who’s she?" Her tone was half-amused, half-curious, her gaze flicking to Kael.

"That’s who we’re here for," Kael murmured, his voice barely audible, his eyes fixed on the moaning woman—the key to Freya’s next step.

Rhea’s mind raced to piece together how this woman fit into Kael’s plan.

Does he want her as a client for the rehab?

Or use her as a toy for his kinky perverted desires?

Rhea shrugged, not bothering to think more, her attention drifting back to the scene, a glint of voyeuristic interest in her eyes as she watched the woman’s body shudder, her moans peaking.

Kael crept forward, motioning Rhea to stay low, his body hugging the shadows as he neared the closest group of sleeping villains.

Rhea followed, too close again, her breath hot on his neck as she whispered, "So... does it feel good in the back door?" Her voice was low, laced with genuine curiosity, her amber eyes glinting in the dark, her cheeks flushed.

Kael froze, his cock twitching despite the danger, her words hitting at the worst possible time.

He glared back, his voice a harsh whisper. "Focus, Rhea."

He tugged her ear, sharp enough to make her wince, but her wry smile returned, unrepentant. "Sorry," she mouthed again, her grin pure trouble.

He shook his head, refocusing, and reached the first two villains—a burly man slumped in a bathtub, a woman sprawled on a crate.

His hands moved with practiced precision, like a snake slithering in silence, fingers brushing their necks, his Empathetic Resonance pulsing softly, slowing the blood flow to their brains.

Seconds later, they slumped deeper, unconscious, their breaths shallow but steady.

Kael moved like a ghost, shadow to shadow, his touch silencing one villain after another.

The woman’s loud moans—"AH ah Ah ah AHnn~!"—masking his faint footsteps as she climaxed, her voice echoing through the warehouse.

Rhea watched, crouched low, her eyes flicking between Kael’s silent efficiency and the woman’s performance.