Rehab for SuperVillains (18+)-Chapter 153: professional driver

Freya’s lips curved into a smile, but her blue eyes softened, her voice gentle. "That’s okay, Kael. It’s just another reason you need me around. I’ll drive you wherever you need to go. No worries."

Kael’s face lifted, his hazel eyes meeting Freya’s, a flicker of relief easing his tension. "That sounds better," he said, his grin returning, softer now. He glanced at Rhea, his tone teasing. "I’ll only ride when Freya’s driving, not you."

"What? Why?" Rhea’s amber eyes flashed, her hands planting on her hips, her crimson hair bouncing with indignation. "I’m a professional driver!"

"Oh, really?" Kael asked, his grin sharpening, his hazel eyes glinting. "You got a license to prove it?"

Rhea’s mouth opened, then snapped shut, her amber eyes darting away as if he’d hit a nerve. "They... don’t give licenses to professional drivers," she said, sticking to her story, her voice defiant but shaky.

"Sure," Kael said, his tone dripping with sarcasm, his grin widening.

"What? I’m being honest!" Rhea insisted, her cheeks flushing, her amber eyes glaring.

Kael and Freya chuckled, exchanging a glance as they left the bedroom, Rhea trailing behind, her scowl half-hearted.

"Let’s have dinner," Kael said, his voice lighter now. "And maybe after, we go for a late-night drive." He looked at Freya, his hazel eyes hopeful. "Will you drive me around?"

Freya’s warm smile lit up her blue eyes, her platinum-cyan hair catching the hallway’s dim light.

"I’d be more than happy to," she said, her voice soft but certain.

Rhea glared for a moment, her amber eyes narrowing, but then she shrugged, her grin returning. "Eh, fine!" she said, joining them as they headed to the kitchen.

After dinner, they washed the dishes, the clink of plates mixing with their playful banter.

Rhea, drying her hands, yelled, "Shotgun!" and sprinted toward the car, her crimson hair flying. But when she reached the Zephyr X-9, Kael was already in the passenger’s seat, his grin smug, his hazel eyes glinting with victory.

"What? How?" Rhea asked, bewildered, her amber eyes wide as she stood by the open passenger door.

Freya locked the Haven’s door after she came out, her blue eyes twinkling as she patted Rhea’s back.

"Looks like you pulled your shotgun too slow," she said, chuckling, then slid into the driver’s seat, her movements smooth and confident.

Rhea grumbled, climbing into the back seat, her amber eyes flashing but her grin creeping back.

Freya started the engine, the twin-turbo V6 purring, and pulled onto the road, the chill night air streaming through the slightly open windows.

They drove through the city, the neon lights reflecting off the car’s obsidian surface, stopping for ice cream at a late-night stand, their laughter mingling with the hum of the engine.

After an hour of cruising, they returned to the Haven, Freya parking the car beside the building, its sleek form blending into the shadows.

Kael leaned back in the passenger seat, his hazel eyes thoughtful. "I forgot to ask," he said, turning to them. "How’d you guys buy this?"

Rhea’s amber eyes sparkled with pride. "Used my money," she said, puffing out her chest, her crimson hair bouncing.

Freya pulled out her debit card, flashing it with a wink, her blue eyes glinting. "And this," she said, her smile sly.

___

"This is the man you have to catch. Dead or alive, it doesn’t matter," Kael said, his voice steady as the projector screen flickered to life, revealing the face of a laughing man, his eyes hidden behind a sleek, crimson mask shaped like a grinning fox.

The name "Vulpes" flashed beneath the image, bold and ominous, marking him as an A-rank villain.

Kael’s hazel eyes scanned the room, gauging his team’s reactions.

"Vulpes has been a thorn in the city’s side for years. He’s a master blackmailer, digging up dirt on heroes—secret identities, past mistakes, family ties—and using it to extort them. He’s got half a dozen low-tier heroes under his thumb, forcing them to sabotage missions or funnel him cash. The Department of Superhuman Affairs wants him stopped, now."

Kael clicked the remote, and the screen shifted to a list of Vulpes’s crimes.

"He’s not a mass murderer, but he’s serious enough. Extortion, obviously, raking in millions. He’s orchestrated heists—art galleries, tech vaults—using blackmailed heroes as puppets. Two years ago, he leaked a hero’s identity to a crime syndicate, leading to their family being targeted; they barely escaped. Last month, he rigged a hero’s suit to malfunction mid-battle, nearly killing them and their team. A-rank because he’s slippery, cunning, and his network of coerced heroes makes him untouchable—until now. Your job: infiltrate his safehouse, neutralize his defenses, and bring him in. Or don’t. Dead works too."

The mission details followed: Vulpes’s safehouse was a fortified townhouse in the city’s upscale district, disguised as a wealthy recluse’s home. Intelligence suggested he had five to seven gunmen—mercenaries with military training—and two superhuman bodyguards: one with enhanced strength, the other a telekinetic.

The safehouse had reinforced doors, motion sensors, and a panic room where Vulpes could retreat.

The team needed to breach quietly, disable the security, take out the guards, and corner Vulpes before he could escape or trigger a deadman’s switch to leak his blackmail data.

Timing was critical—Vulpes was expected to be there tonight, meeting a coerced hero to collect a payoff.

Kael, Rhea, and Freya were in the fifth room at the end of the Haven’s hallway, a cramped space now serving as REAPER’s temporary briefing room.

They’d finished breakfast—Kael had cooked eggs and toast, delivering paper trays to Tila and Lila earlier.

thud thud thud thud

Tila’s muffled banging and curses echoed faintly through the walls, a constant reminder of her volatile presence, which never gave up.

The room they were in was bare except for a bed, and the projector setup, its light casting stark shadows.

Rhea sprawled across the bed, her superhero suit hugging her like molten fire.

The orange and black bodysuit clung to her powerful frame, its fabric a high-tech weave that shimmered faintly, accentuating her broad shoulders and toned curves.

The suit’s black accents traced sharp lines along her hips and waist, giving her a predatory edge, while the orange flared like embers across her chest and thighs, pulsing with her fiery energy.

Freya sat neatly on the bed’s edge, her icy blue bodysuit a stark contrast to Rhea’s heat and color.

The suit melded to her toned and curvy form, its frost-like patterns shimmering with every breath, fading to silver at her wrists and ankles.

The high collar framed her neck like a regal crown, and a lightweight cape, white as fresh snow, flowed behind her, its edges catching the light like prisms.

The suit’s material was woven with multi-resistant fibers, cooling her skin as she channeled her ice powers, and her gloves bore subtle ridges for grip, perfect for precision strikes.

Her platinum-cyan hair was tied back neatly, her sapphire necklace tucked beneath the collar.

Kael stood by the projector, his casual jeans and t-shirt a contrast to their suits, his stun baton clipped to his belt.

"This is an easy A-rank job. Should be a cakewalk for you two," he said, his hazel eyes flicking between them.

Rhea propped herself up on her elbows, her amber eyes glinting as she studied Vulpes’s grinning mask on the screen.

"That guy looks goofy as fuck," she said, her voice dripping with disdain. "Don’t know why, but I’ve got this intense urge to smash his teeth in."