This is a weird teaser. Or actually, an elaborate prompt. For the TVD and The Handmaid's Tale crossover no one ever asked for.

If anyone feels like they'd like to give this crossover a try and write something, please let me know. I'll be there to read it! Until then I guess I'll have to try and write it myself.

...

Edit:

After a couple of hours I realize that this seems to be a rather controversial attempt. I'd have liked to elaborately reply to the first review that, I'm sure, gives some valid criticism, but I don't feel the need anymore because it turned into random Bonnie-fans bashing.

If anyone has a problem with my story, if they find it "distasteful", etc., that's all fair and well. I can handle it, I'm open to it. Heck, I'll even consider taking this down again and keeping the rest to myself if it's too offensive. (I'll mull this over a day or two or three while I keep writing over here...)

But it's unfair to bash anyone else for what I wrote. This is on me, and on me only.

...

The Maid

...

…

"Blessed be the fruit."

She raised her chin, eyes flicking to the side as her body stiffened before she replied with a whisper. "May the lord open."

"Time to get ready, maid."

She nodded her head, keeping her gaze lowered as was expected of her.

Feeling the light brush of his jacket against the sleeve of her shapeless dress made her gasp inaudibly. She wasn't used to being so close to another person anymore, unless it was her master or mistress. She had perfected her silence, of course, so he had not heard her. Which was like it was supposed to be. No one wanted a maid to be heard or seen after all. She had just one purpose...

"Follow me." His voice wafted over to her as if disembodied, although she knew he was right there. She didn't dare look at him however, because it was forbidden.

Like so much else. There had been a time when she would have risked it regardlessly. But that was long in the past now, too. They had thoroughly gotten all fight, all resistance out of her. (Almost all of it…)

"I wish I could—"

"Shhh," she hissed, interrupting him quickly before he could say more. Could endanger them both. He was a bit of a hothead, she knew it, the collar and wristbands he was wearing the only things keeping him in check. Keeping him "loyal" to their master's household.

"I just—"

"Please don't," she breathed, relieved when he kept quiet, but feeling the heat of his body from where he walked just a foot or so behind her. So close. Even quieter, she allowed a soft, "I know," wanting to give him at least that. Her gratitude. For caring.

Because no one else cared anymore.

This was Gilead. The land under king Niklaus Mikaelson's reign. And people didn't care about anything anymore but trying to make supernatural babies.

She looked up, features hardening as the bedroom door of her king's palace appeared in front of her. Taking a deep breath, she braced herself.

Because she was Ofklaus now, had been for some seven months or so.

She had been a witch once, a witch that was now kept powerless by strong magic inhibitors. But that felt like a different life. Long ago.

When she had had a name. When she had been Bonnie Bennett.

But that time was long gone and no one appreciated her magic anymore. Her only power anyone still wanted or needed was just that of her womb.

…

A bit over half a year in, and Ofklaus had already somewhat forgotten what life felt like when you didn't have to obey other people's every wish and order. When you had an actual name.

Looking up, letting her gaze blur, she tried to focus on nothing but the ceiling above her, blocking out the awful pounding feeling, the squeaking sound of the bed underneath her, or the grip on her hands as she was held in place to be raped by her "master."

Yes, in quotation marks, because that bastard Niklaus Mikaelson, whose "property" she was these days would never in a million years be her master. He could call her Ofklaus all he wanted, they all could call her that, but she would never be his.

She was still and would always be Bonnie Bennett, a witch even if they suppressed her powers (for good reason obviously), and an independent spirit. She couldn't be broken. Not even by them. Not even now.

With a loud moan and clipped yell, the Original Hybrid came, spilling his disgusting seed inside of her, making her avert her gaze finally, watching as he retreated, zipping up his pants, watching, too, as Caroline Forbes, the man's wife, let go of her hands and wrists, shooting her a somewhat apologetic look, as she patted her shoulder.

"Stay on your back for a few minutes please…"

Ofklaus pressed her lips together, obeying, already feeling the stickiness between her legs make its way down anyways. As if her body was rejecting the Original's precious bodily fluid...

She knew Caroline hadn't really had much of a choice in all this. That she had thought she was helping this man, bringing out the good in him. But it hadn't worked. Clearly. And she couldn't feel sorry for the young woman who had been so blinded by the man's charm and handsome looks that she hadn't seen the evil behind the mask.

He had proclaimed himself the king of this new kingdom just a year ago, and things had changed slowly at first, then rapidly as he had decimated, then incarcerated the mere humans among them, and ensnared and enslaved the more supernatural beings.

Humans like Matt Donovan, and Klaus' harem of pretty girls, who were all part of the household, too, compelled to give their king and his homestead their blood whenever they needed it. It made Ofklaus sick to her stomach to watch how they were treated, which was truly even worse than her own fate. At least she had a little room to herself, a bathroom, a few amenities, and she was given good food, and rest. The one thing Klaus really did care about was the health of the maids...

Her one consolation was that at least her husband of two years had made it out alive, fleeing with his brother across the border. She and Damon had packed up just a few of their belongings and had tried to make a run for it when it had become clear that Klaus was going to round them all up. But their car had broken down, and Klaus' hybrids had been on them quickly.

She remembered stumbling through the forest, her knees getting torn, her hands too, her coat catching until she discarded it, preferring to shiver in the cold of autumn rather than letting her clothes get her in trouble.

But it had been for naught. They had caught her anyway.

"Run," she had yelled at Damon, begging him, pleading with her eyes because she knew the hybrids would kill him if they ever got a hold of him.

Stefan and Elena had been with them, suffering a similar fate.

But the boys had made it out, while Bonnie and Elena had been snatched up, had been brought in front of Klaus and his fancy new council to decide their fate.

And now here she was, a mere servant, a supernatural maid, subdued like all the maids that were used these days to try and work on creating pure supernatural offspring.

Vampire babies.

Witch babies.

Werewolf babies.

Hybrid babies...

It was insane. Klaus had created what he called a magical council, an unknown number of powerful witches, dappling in the darkest magic, reining in magical beings left and right while also working on their fertility.

With most humans out of the picture or condemned to the sidelines, Klaus was in dire need of creating new life. And it was a slow and painful process.

Painful for people like Bonnie. Or Elena.

Not for the supernatural wives. Women lucky enough to be married to Klaus' elite. Like Caroline. Or his sister Rebekah, who was married to his second in command, Marcel, a dark and dangerous man, almost as frightening as Klaus himself.

But Ofklaus knew that not even the wives were particularly happy. Not even Caroline, the queen. Because no one was happy. Not anymore.

…

When she was eventually allowed to gather up her dress and leave the bedroom, everyone was hoping against hope that this time she had fallen pregnant - Klaus because he wanted his dark magic to work and wanted a super hybrid child for himself and supernatural offspring to keep up his reign, Caroline because she was desperate to have a baby, to have a task and the chance to love someone unconditionally and be loved back, and Ofklaus… because she wanted a break from the ritualistic raping that Klaus insisted was necessary even though in vitro fertilization seemed like a much better bet for success. But what did Ofklaus know.

Truth was, Klaus wanted to exert and affirm his power, and what better tool than rape to accomplish that.

He had scared everyone into submission. And those that didn't scare easily were kept in check by compulsion, spells and vervain binds, and the worst offenders by specially forged collars and wristbands holding the darkest magic to keep them in their place.

Like Klaus' lackey. Or, as he himself called him, his valet. A dark haired boy that hated Klaus so obviously that it was almost comical to watch.

The boy, Tyler Lockwood, had once been a werewolf, but had been turned into a hybrid long ago. He was Klaus' first success story, and the big evil liked to showcase the poor boy just for that alone.

Or Klaus' driver, a slightly psychotic vampire, unreadable, with a temper that made her feel uneasy, to put it mildly. Strangely, she was one of the few he didn't go off on, but that might have just been because she held such an important role in his master's - their master's -household.

It was that driver she ran into on her way back up to her room, and she grimaced, looking away as she passed him.

"Looking good in that dress," he breathed, making her roll her eyes and stifle an involuntary smirk. "Is it new?"

The driver still hadn't learned one of the most important roles. That silence was golden, that you simply didn't try and make conversation, not when Klaus was home, and most certainly not with his maid.

But while she remained quiet, almost appreciating his crude attempt at a joke (maids only owned one style of dress, a wide shapeless garment covering their whole bodies, glaring red so you could spot them from a mile away…), Tyler behind her, who was guiding her back to the tower in which her room was situated, shushed the driver immediately.

"Don't talk to her."

"Relax, hybrid boy."

Ofklaus bit her lip, unable to keep herself from peeking out at the daring man who had told Tyler to relax. She sighed. The driver was still new, and she had the distinct feeling he wouldn't last very long.

Sure enough, Tyler was up in his face within a split second, staring up at the taller driver, squaring his shoulders, tense and bristling. She didn't have to see either of their faces to know exactly what was going on.

Tyler would have a scowl, Enzo, the driver, an aloof grin on their faces, and only etiquette and the promise of painful punishment would keep them in check.

"No one talks to the handmaid." Tyler's clipped voice sounded dangerous.

"You know, the big bad can only have as much power over us as we grant him…"

"Oh yeah? You think so? You think any of us have a choice in this? You think she wants to be raped every months for a week, that the humans want to be live-in bloodbanks? That the cleaners want to do his every bidding? You think—"

"Tyler, stop." Ofklaus didn't know where her sudden daring attitude even came from, she only noticed her hand was gently touching his arm when he turned to look at it, then at her.

Their gazes met, for the first time since both of them were working for Klaus, they were actually looking each other straight in the eyes. There was a flicker of amber in his, telling her just how agitated he was. His mouth slightly open, he was as shocked as she was that she had addressed him. Had touched him.

It wasn't allowed...

Would Enzo report them? A sudden heat crept up Ofklaus' spine, settled in the nape of her neck, before it flushed into her cheeks.

"Just… shut up if you don't want him to hear you mouth off," Tyler gritted out, addressing Enzo again, whose eyes flickered unreadably as Ofklaus dared a quick glance.

"I'm almost certain he'd be more interested to hear what you just said." Enzo gave him a pointed stare, Bonnie's hand tightening around Tyler's arm to keep him from going off on the other man after all.

"Let it go," she muttered, begging, but of course it was for naught. Panic seized her heart the instant Tyler lunged forward, his hands coming up to grab the driver by his throat. Hissing, Bonnie could see the wolf in him coming to the forefront, and she knew what that meant.

As Enzo deflected the attack with a woosh, and Tyler struggled with his wolf side, both men suddenly clutched at their heads, yelling in pain as the magic in their collars radiated through their bodies, sending shockwaves out.

She knew what that felt like, of course. It was pure agony. Absently clutching at her own collar, fearing it could go off just like theirs, she stood and watched in horror as the men crumpled to the floor, their throats and wrists growing red and raw the longer the magic binds worked.

"Please stop," she pleaded to no one in particular, freezing when she saw their king enter the hallway they had all been standing in, a weary if smug look on his features that told her he had been watching them for a while.

With a flick of his hand, the two men before him collapsed onto the floor, breathing raggedly, both turning slightly to face Klaus.

Tyler was first to struggle up into a kneeling position, bowing his head down low. "Forgive me, my king," he gritted out, barely able to conceal his hatred, but Klaus didn't seem to care.

"I don't allow this in my home," he breathed, too calm, too quiet, walking slowly closer until Ofklaus could feel his body heat right next to her. Swallowing uneasily, she tensed.

"The maid does not need or want to see you mouthing off. She does not need to hear you say anything other than a greeting and to tell her when it's time to come see me. No one talks to the maid, or in front of her, is that understood?"

"Yes, my king."

Klaus nodded, lifting his foot slightly to put it under Tyler's chin, forcing the kid to look up at him. Ofklaus could see a flicker of amber still in his eyes, and so could Klaus. Instantaneously, he pulled Tyler up to his feet roughly, staring him into submission. "Keep yourself in check, boy, or I will have to bring you down to the cellar."

A shiver ran through Ofklaus. Nobody wanted to go down into the cellar. Nobody… She hoped Tyler could keep it together enough to not have to be sent down there.

As he nodded, eyes downcast, Klaus let go of him, stalking over to where his driver had gotten back on his feet, awaiting his turn.

"You," Klaus hissed, glaring at Enzo, who was running a hand over the collar around his neck, "you are a disappointment so far. One more thing, one more word to the maid from you and I'll stake you. I won't tolerate this behavior. You will not talk to anyone but me, Lorenzo."

The driver nodded, shooting Ofklaus an unexpected sideways glance, however, lips curling slightly as he did. Was he… smiling at her? Stupid stupid idiot. He really didn't know Klaus at all yet, did he? Wasn't intimidated at all when clearly he should be.

She closed her eyes when the inevitable happened, when Klaus flicked his hand and a bunch of his hybrids came out of unseen corners, zoning in on them. On Enzo.

"Bring him to the cellar," Klaus said with a sigh, looking as weary as a father talking to an ornery child. "You'll learn to behave down there…"

Ofklaus gnawed her lip, Tyler gasped lightly, both of them retreating slightly as the hybrids grabbed Enzo, who didn't even struggle, who just stared straight at Klaus with an inscrutable expression.

"You may as well just—"

His gaze met Ofklaus', as she was shaking her head, pleading with him silently, pleading with him to stay quiet. Please…. She didn't even know why. Part of her almost wanted him to get punished, for him to feel on his own body just how stupid his words had been. Because no one had a chance against Klaus Mikaelson. But the larger part just didn't want to see anyone suffer anymore, didn't want anyone to die anymore, not even Enzo with his cocky attitude.

But the strangest thing was that he actually fell silent, his gaze still on hers as he was dragged away.

"May as well what?" Klaus sneered, growing visibly angry when he didn't get a reply. Following a sudden instinct, the handmaid lightly tugged at his sleeve, making him whirl around to look at her.

She could see it work behind his shuttered expression, could see him question her behavior and she knew he could see straight through her. She had done it to distract him, of course, because she didn't want him to lay into Enzo.

"Careful now, witch," he told her, his tone soft, and he cupped her cheek, making her look at him. "You wouldn't want me to think that you cared about him, now do you?"

"No." (He had called her witch. Not maid…)

"Good." His grip tightened, making her hiss and flinch. But she didn't avert her gaze, stared straight into his too bright eyes. "Now go."

Frowning, she weakly waved over to Tyler, who always, without fail, escorted her back. "What about—"

"You'll find your way alone this once, won't you? I need a word with my valet."

It was her cue. She was dismissed and she better hurry before he exploded at her, too. With a glance back, she rushed past the two men, seeing Tyler clench his jaw and shooting a quick glance at her that made her quickly look away. A little further away she saw Enzo and the hybrids disappear down the dark staircase into the vault-like cellar that stretched out under the palace like a maze. She would probably not see him for a while, which shouldn't have fazed her, because she didn't really know or care or like him at all. And yet it did.

Because no one deserved the cellar. No one.

…

Long after the "ceremony" was over, Caroline still sat on the bed, her thoughts wandering.

When had things gotten so out of hand? When had she been reduced to to horrible, atrocious duty of helping Klaus rape a girl so he could create a special hybrid baby. Why had she gone along with that?

Because he had compelled her to help him, of course. She hadn't had a choice. Which didn't make this feel better at all.

She even liked the poor girl. Ofklaus. Caroline rolled her eyes. The man was full of hubris, his ego so inflated that it was a miracle he hadn't popped yet like a large balloon. How had it come so far? How had she lost her grip on him and had him let revert back to his old self. No. This was even worse than anything he had ever done before, wasn't it?

Destroying almost all of the American south, forcing the states into secession to build his own empire instead was the work of a truly crazy man. Gilead, as he had called it, using a book as his inspiration that he had used for so many other of his crazy ideas, was his kingdom, his dictatorship. Where terror ruled.

How could it have come that far?

She had seen something in him once, a vulnerability, a heart. But for fear of letting anyone else see it and hurt him, he had closed that part of him off too easily, had built up walls around himself that even she couldn't penetrate anymore.

"You alright, love?"

She looked up to see him standing on the threshold, arms crossed in front of him as he gazed at her out of almost dreamy looking eyes.

"Ya," she breathed, trying to smile and knowing it wasn't reaching her eyes. But he didn't even call her out on it.

"I'm afraid you won't be able to go to your wives group today," he announced, and while part of her didn't even care, she frowned at him anyways, upset at the lost chance to get out of the stifling palace for a couple of hours.

"Why?"

He didn't like being questioned, she knew that, but it was one of the things she could still get away with. One of the things where she received special treatment still. (Most of the times…)

"The new driver needs a little more grooming before he can resume his work."

"Grooming?" She raised an eyebrow, knowing full well what this probably meant. The cellar. Or dungeon as she had come to refer to it.

Klaus gave her a look, sidling over to her as she stood up. His arm came around her waist, the touch of his hand against her middle a tender caress that made her gasp.

Oh gosh, she still loved that man, still melted immediately under his hands. She still wanted him, too. Even after what he had just done to that poor girl.

Lifting her chin with one finger, he gazed into her eyes. "I'll have my way with him down in the cellar," he explained, knowing full well that she already knew as much. "I'll break and rearrange his bones. I'll slice him open and take a good look inside. I'll watch him squirm…" His finger went under the waistband of her skirt, then her panties, his whole hand soon sliding down until she felt him against her warm core, grabbing her. Hissing, she wiggled under his touch, making him grin at her. "Just like I'll watch you squirm now."

She glared at him, angry at him for comparing his planned torture with what he was doing to her, angry at herself, too, for responding to his touch so quickly. Already she was throbbing, her legs, her middle feeling heavy, his finger slipping in between her too wet folds way too easily.

"Are you wet for me or for the prospect of watching me do to that man what he deserves?"

Slapping him, hard, she gripped his hand and pulled it away, taking a few steps away from him.

"Don't you dare," she hissed, and he had the audacity to smirk at her.

"What, Caroline?"

"I'm not going to watch you torture an innocent man."

He scoffed. "He's not innocent. He didn't abide by my rules so he will have to be put in his place."

"You're a monster, Klaus. What happened to the man I fell in love with? The one that felt compassion, that loved me."

"I've always been the man you see in front of you now." He scoffed, looking her up and down, then pulling her against him. "Don't fool yourself."

She shook her head, that old sadness washing over her again as she clutched at his chest, unsure whether she wanted to try and get away from him or dig into his shirt to tear it off of him.

All the possibilities she had once seen in him, that had blinded her into thinking he could still be saved. Deep down, she still thought that maybe there was hope for him, but it was dwindling. And dwindling fast.

Gently cupping his cheek, surprised that he let her, she looked at him tenderly. "I love you, Klaus. I always will. But don't fool yourself: if you make me watch you torture someone - anyone else - I'll leave. I don't care if you'll torture me or kill me or abandon me, but I won't have you make me a witness to your madness any longer. And this… this thing with the 'maid,' that has to stop too—"

Her words got suffocated by a ferocious kiss he placed on her lips as he shoved her down on the bed, his hands roaming over her body, his tongue coming out to play with her earlobes.

"I'll stop when we are certain she's pregnant," he breathed against her neck as if it was a tender love poem meant to seduce her further, but what had she expected. Tilting her head, baring her throat to him, she allowed him to trace her pulsing vein with his thumb as he grabbed her there, while his other hand was busy unbuttoning her blouse to access her breasts underneath. Feeling his fingers through the fabric of her bra, her nipples hardened, betraying her further. But it just felt too good. He felt so good, so right. And how could someone so awful feel like that? How?

She swallowed, forcing herself to fight this, to let anger boil up inside of her.

"You're raping her and you make me help, you make me watch you pound her like some… some…"

"Because all I want is you, Caroline! I want you and I need you there. Do you think I want this? Don't you understand? If I could, I would do this with you, but you are not a witch, you can't give me what I need."

"What?!" She tried to shove away the hand that was cupping her right breast, tried sitting up, to no avail. He was lying above her, his weight heavy, strangely grounding her when it should have felt oppressing, like he was trapping her. Because he was, wasn't he? "If you don't want it, then stop! Bon—Ofklaus doesn't deserve this. What has she ever done to you?!"

"Like I said," he sounded cold now, "She's a witch. And you know why I need her. You know why we have this system. The maids. We need supernatural offspring. We can't rely on weak humans for this. And the king needs a special child…"

"Do you even hear yourself talk?"

"Shut up, love. Enough of that talk. Let me fuck you."

With that he pushed her over onto her back, baring her backside, smacking each butt cheek lightly before easing his knees between her legs, gently forcing her to spread them wide. She wasn't ready with him, wanted to continue with their conversation, didn't want to let him off the hook yet, not so quickly, but then she felt his tongue trail down her spine, down down until he reached her crack, making that throbbing feeling inside of her pick up its pace even more, making her try and grab him. But he pulled both her wrists together lightly, easily, holding her restrained as he went about his business.

"Klaus," she moaned, his tongue sliding down further, further, until he reached her puckered hole, making her squirm and buck under him, making her push her ass out to meet him. "Unh," was all she could say as she spasmed slightly under the knowing wiggle of his strongest muscle.

"Like that, love?"

"Yes…"

He let go of her hands, abruptly pulling her hips up until she was on her hands and knees before him, feeling him hard against her crack. But he wasn't going for that, not yet. Instead, she felt his fingers trace her soft underbelly, coming together to trace down a path to her dripping throbbing entrance, circling her clit softly, so slowly that she had to moan again, certain that she was going to come before he could even so much as put a finger inside of her.

"Are you coming undone for me, my queen?"

She was breathing heavily, almost unable to reply. "Yes…"

Suddenly, there were fingers in between her folds, almost grazing her clit but not quite, while more fingers slid along her crack, up and down, then playing with her anus gently, easing their way in. Just one finger at first, one finger wiggling up her tight butt, while another one dipped into her vagina from the front. Then two… Her brain felt ready to explode, she couldn't grasp a single proper thought anymore and cursed herself for that, too.

"So tight, love. Let me ease you open, open wide. I want to see you, I want to smell you, I want to feel you come onto my fingers. Come, my queen. Show me…"

She felt his fingers beckon, their earlier conversation half forgotten now, shoved aside, all that mattered now his touch on her body, her need to feel him, her need to come. His fingers inside of her were almost touching, making her twitch, his mouth against the nape of her neck nibbling.

So much stimulation she could barely contain herself anymore. Raising herself up off her hands, she rode his fingers, made them dig deeper into her, waves of heat rolling over her body as she did. When she was almost there, almost there but not quite, she looked to the side, to the large mirror on her dresser, watching Klaus grin at her, his lips red, his cheeks rosy with arousal, his eyes dark and hungry. Then she brought her hands up to touch her breasts, kneading them, rolling her nipples in between her fingers, all the while staring at him in the mirror.

"Come for me, Caroline." His voice was hoarse, ordering. Their gazes locked, she watched as he licked his lips, watched the bulge in his pants as he grew so rock hard that it had to be painful.

She pinched herself, hard. "I need your finger on my clit. Now," she ordered, harshly, looking at his mirror reflection. "Make me come. Make me…"

She moaned out then, half yelling as her body spasmed up in sweet release, his fingers relentlessly continuing their ministrations until she shoved him away, giggling lightly.

"Stop, Stop," she breathed. "Too tender now…" She fell onto the bed, spent, looking up at him, her expression changing once again. "I need you inside of me. I need you to fuck me. Hard."

She didn't have to tell him twice, he was out of his clothes within seconds, so ready…

He wasn't gentle or careful anymore when he entered her, his length almost too much for her to handle when he slid in and out of her, filling her with his flesh where she needed it. But she wanted it rough, she wanted it hard. She needed the pain. And he gave it to her.

"You're mine," he hissed, staring down at her, stooping down to bite her nipple, bite her lips in a rough kiss, his pounding becoming quicker, stronger until she felt like it was almost too much.

"Klaus," she moaned, her hands clutching at him, scratching at his back.

"Mine!"

"Yours. Always…"

"Don't. Ever. Forget. That."

He came so violently, collapsing onto her, that she had trouble breathing. They lay like that, spent, sweaty, entangled, for a minute, maybe more, until he finally pushed himself up again, and, with a soft kiss, hopped off the bed to dress himself, while she remained lying naked, still trying to process his tone when he had said those last few words.

They had sounded like a threat.

A chill went down her spine and she slowly sat up, looking for her clothes.

"I'll leave you to it," he told her, already looking ready for business again. "Want me to send Rebekah over for some company?"

Part of her wanted to say, "I thought you wanted me to go down to the cellar with you," but of course she didn't.

"Yes, that would be lovely…"

Feeling stupid and used, she looked after him as he blew her one last kiss before exiting through the large bedroom doors and vanishing into the hallway, the doors falling shut after him. Not before she had seen Tyler Lockwood emerge from the shadows to meet his boss.

Caroline's cheeks reddened as his gaze briefly crossed over her naked body.

Klaus had allowed that man to wait upstairs? In front of their bedroom? He would have heard her… He had seen her...

Which would have been what Klaus had wanted. Maybe he had wanted to teach the boy a lesson? (Or her…)

Caroline scoffed. Was she honestly trying to find excuses for him again? Really? How far had she fallen? What had become of her? She was just his plaything, wasn't she? His trophy wife. He used her and abused her however he wanted, and she was stupid enough to let him. Stupid enough to enjoy it.

Fuck that.

It was time she got a grip on herself and stopped this. All of it.

...