What do you do when you're desperate for information and work in a fashion shop where hundreds of women come to shop every day? You ask for information, naturally. The only problem was I couldn't just get a straight answer out of anyone. They'd each taken Klaus Mikaelson's story and mixed and mashed it.

"I heard he shot our last mayor."

"I saw his face once. His eyes were like coals."

"He's missing a few teeth."

"He killed my cat."

"He's incredibly formal. You wouldn't suspect a thing. Especially when his piercing eyes distract you from the terrifying reality of his smile..."

"He slept with me because he thought I was the most exotic woman he'd seen in his life."

"He was in Africa before here. He's as black as coffee. Crazy, too."

"He had a gun up to my head one time. I swear he was going to kill me."

"They had him in prison a while back...He got out."

By the time I was done with my shift I was about ready to tear my hair out. The closest I got to solid information was when my boss told me to stop questioning people about "the death reaper." And even with that, I already knew he was a killer. Call that day one hell of a disappointment.

Luckily, when I got home, Lexi and Matt were more than willing to help me research Mikaelson. Actually, they were a bit excited to do it.

"Nothing says he's a killer. There's just a lot of fishy proof that he was involved with the murders," Matt mumbled as he scrolled over another website. He sat at the table, Lexi leaning over his shoulder and myself pacing in front of them.

"You'd think that after so many times of him being at the crime scene they'd just arrest him in case," Lexi scoffed, leaning on Matt's chair and rubbing her hand over his shoulder subconsciously.

"Is that an actual news file?" I asked, doubting the website.

"Yeah," Matt said, his eyes moving up to check the date. "From back in December. Tons of people went missing."

"At Christmas time? And he was involved?"

"His name shows up as a witness. Every time," Matt nodded.

Lexi growled. "Cops are so stupid."

I leaned over the table surface. "Someone said he got paid to kill. Do you think the government hired him? They do that, don't they?"

"Yeah," Matt agreed with a snappy voice, "to take care of cases like Jeffrey Dahmer. In this case, the guy taking care of the criminal is the killer. I don't think he's getting paid, Caroline."

I let my head fall down onto the table, feeling all hope rush out of me. He did it all as sport. "What the hell am I supposed to do?"

I heard Lexi sigh in sympathy for me. "You might just have to go through with everything. I know that sucks and sounds just absolutely stupid, but it's all you've got right now. Try to run and he just might hunt you down like a rabbit."

"Thanks, Lexi, that's exactly what I needed to hear."

She shrugged, but before she could add more onto her horrible opinion, the doorbell went off. "Who ordered pizza?" I demanded, pissed off. I'd told them I would make lunch. But Lexi and Matt both just shook their heads. "Order anything?" I checked. Again, they denied. "Expecting anyone? Do something the landlord wouldn't like?"

Lexi raised her eyebrows slowly at me. "We didn't do anything," she whispered, "but you're married to a guy that promised to come after you..."

My heart stopped beating at her words. The idea of being that close to the door made my skin crawl. He could possibly be on the other side. With a knife. Or a gun. Or maybe just his huge, bare hands, ready to strangle me.

Much to my relief (and fright), Matt stood up from his seat and casually made his way to the door. He opened it without even looking through the peephole to see who it was. And thank God he didn't need to. When the door swung open, no one was there. Matt stood there for a moment before bending down and picking up an envelope.

He read the front of it for possibly 0.5 seconds before he bolted straight down the hallway, leaving Lexi and me calling after him.

By the time we both were in the doorway and Lexi was picking up the dropped letter, Matt was nowhere to be seen. He must have jumped into an elevator before we even had time to react to what was going on.

"Where is he going?" I asked, as if Lexi would know the answer.

I say that sarcastically, but she did actually know where he'd gone. "After your husband."

I looked to see what she was talking about and in her hand was the letter, with "My Dearest" printed in calligraphy across the front. My breath caught in my throat as we both realized Matt had just run after a killer that obviously wasn't in the mood to be seen.

"Matt..." Lexi gaped, staring down the hall like there was a ghost at the end.

I could do nothing but stare at the white square in her hand. I took it quickly, not bothering to be polite. It was mine, after all. I ripped it open and pulled out a card. Just a simple piece of hard paper with print on one side. "Pick a dress, sweetheart," I read aloud for Lexi to hear. "What does that even mean?"

"Anything else in the letter?" she checked, still scanning the hall.

I checked, and sure enough, a ticket fell out from the bottom of the letter. "It's an invitation to a law firm party," I said disgustedly. Not only did I hate lawyers, but I hated their parties even more. And now I was expected to pick a dress and wear it to this place that I know nothing about?

Let's just say I was on the verge of breaking down. Too much, way too fast. There was absolutely no time to cry, though, because Lexi grabbed my arm harshly and pulled me with her as she jogged down the hall towards the elevator. Her fingers smashed into the button over and over, urging the transporter to work faster.

"It's too late," I shook my head. "By now he's either dead or kidnapped."

Lexi lifted her hand and smacked me upside the head. "Say anything else and he won't be the only one to die today."

Sarcasm. That was the only thing we could do to keep our heads on. The second we stopped being sarcastic, we would be serious, and then everything would hit us like a brick. So, if we stayed all smart-assy, then our chances of Matt coming back up to us would somehow be about twenty percent higher.

Call it superstition, but it worked. We ran down the stairs, heading for the first floor. But halfway down the second flight, the bottom door opened and a panting Matt entered the hollow stairwell. We stopped mid step and looked down the center of the stairs. "Matt?" Lexi called.

Relief flooded over me as he looked back up with a pained look on his face. "Didn't find him."

"You idiot!" Lexi yelled, racing down the stairs.

"What'd I do?" he frowned, slowly heading up to meet her.

I took my time following Lexi, knowing that she'd run into his arms and hugged the hell out of him. I didn't need to witness my friends in a happy relationship while my love life crumpled under my thumb.

"What else was I supposed to do?" I heard Matt mutter into her shoulder. They were an entire floor below me, but I still casually sulked down the steps.

"Not chase after a killer!"

"We want to find him, don't we?"

"On his time. He already promised to show up eventually. If he didn't want to be seen, why would you try to catch him?"

"To help Caroline with her life?"

"Thank you, Matt!" I exasperated as I rounded the last few steps. "At least someone cares."

Lexi turned to face me. "If my fiance dies because he's trying to help you, I'll kill you too."

"Nice to know you'll always have my back."

Matt glanced back and forth between us, looking like a lost third wheel. He slowly put his hand into the air. "I'll always have your back."

"Yeah, no shit," Lexi growled, then turned and stormed back up the stairs.

.

"Red or black?"

Lexi groaned over the phone. "Why do you care so much?"

I placed the black dress back on the rack and examined the red one. The music in that shop was giving me a headache, and that apparently didn't help with my planning schemes. "I don't want to look like myself. The last thing I need is him thinking he knows me."

"So you're just going to act like a different person entirely?"

"Might as well try," I mumbled, holding the dress up to my front as I looked into a nearby mirror. "I don't want him to enjoy this. I want to look like the last girl that Klaus Mikaelson would have on his arm."

"Klaus Mikaelson?" someone to my side spoke up.

I dropped the phone down from my ear and turned to see a woman looking at me. She was my age, or close to, with brown hair, and lips the color of coffee.

"Sorry, can I help you?"

"Klaus Mikaelson," she repeated, almost smiling at me. "What do you know about him?"

I chuckled. The irony. "Absolutely nothing."

Her smile flickered off from her face in a second. "What are you talking about him for, then?"

I frowned, placing my phone back up to my face as I stared. "Lexi, I'm gonna have to call you back..."

The woman spoke before I'd even hung up. "How do you know the name Mikaelson?"

"I was having a private conversation-"

"You're trying on dresses, and spoke of being the girl on his arm."

"And you have no right eavesdropping-"

The smile slowly returned to her face, this time as if she'd had a realization. "You're her, aren't you?"

Not giving her an answer, I inched away. Her smile remained, even as I retreated. "Tell him we know where he is. The City Auditorium was a great hiding place, but it's over now. We're going to come in at some point. Soon."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Don't bother abandoning post; we have eyes on the building. Enjoy your last moments together." She laughed and turned, walking away through the rows of dresses and out the door.

Was everything going to be so vague and mysterious from then on? Was that going to be my life for the next months? If so, I really needed to figure out how to squeeze more answers out of people. But at least she'd given me one thing. The City Auditorium.

.

This was it. This was his hiding place. It was honestly kinda scary. I used to love the arts, but the buildings always made me a little dizzy. Really dizzy now that I knew what was hiding under the stage... I could easily see there being a basement full of cells and torture weapons that he used when orchestras were playing. But I still got out of my car and approached the building, taking my time just in case he burst through the door with a shotgun the second my foot touched the grand stairs.

But no maniac with a gun appeared, so I figured I was safe to continue. What a stupid assumption.

The entire building was empty. My footsteps echoed through the polished stone hallways. Vacant, just like a scene from a horror movie would be.

I swallowed when my eyes met the closed French doors of the auditorium. Behind the door was probably a room full of dead audience members watching him slide into his hole under the thrust. My skin was as tight as it could have been.

The door opened and I nearly screamed. A short balding man in a suit stepped out, shivering in his skin just as much as I was. He froze at the sight of me, then hesitantly edged around my presence. He muttered a horse, "Excuse me," before walking around me and exiting the house on wobbly legs. His entire stance set me into my own tense pose. My first thought was that he was a victim that got away from an electric chair. He'd been dismissed from the monster under the stage.

If I could go back and never enter that house, I would. It truly was a waste of my time. A waste of time that gave me nightmares. See, I didn't find Klaus Mikaelson while I was at the house. I didn't find the demon in the shadows. I found the demon that walked in sunlight.

After I watched the strange man leave the house in a hurry, I turned around to find a second man standing in the open French doors. His hair was combed back neatly, but the bangs had fallen into his eyes. His head tilted forward, casting shadows across his eyes. He was wearing a tux like he was born in it. His hands folded behind his back, and his lips formed a very sinister smirk.

I had jumped at the first man, yes, but to say I had jumped in the same way at this man would be an understatement. Even after I started, I felt like I never hit the ground again, just lingered in that hair-raising shock.

"Good evening," he purred.

I forced myself to smile, but it came out more as an inward chuckle. Something told me a swift kick to the loin wouldn't be enough to stop this man even for a moment. "Hi. Um... I'm the...woman from the band," I pulled out of my ass. "I came to look for my purse. But I found it already, so..." I trailed off, looking away from his smirking face. "So now that that's done, I guess I'll be on my way," I smiled brightly, turning quickly to leave. Just get out just get out just get out.

My eyes glued to the door as I briskly walked towards it. "Mrs. Mikaelson," he stopped me.

My feet stopped working and my teeth instantly caught my bottom lip between them in panic. He knew who I was. He knew I was married to Mikaelson. For all I remembered, he could have been Klaus himself. Still, I turned towards him.

His smile was the perfect mixture of both a friend's and a maniac's. "I highly recommend you simply wait for Klaus to find you," he finished.

I was relieved. That wasn't Klaus. And for some reason, that put courage back into my soul. "How do you know me?"

"I believe I bought a suit from you a few months ago."

"How do you know I'm a Mikaelson?"

He chuckled. "You think I wouldn't know who my brother married?"

I swallowed. "Is he here? I need to speak to him."

"Would it happen to have anything to do with a divorce?" he checked with raised eyebrows.

Hesitation seemed to replace my ability to breath. "Yes."

"He's busy."

"And if I don't want to talk about a divorce? Is he available then?"

He smiled. "No."

I huffed. "Why did you ask what I wanted to talk to him about, then?"

"To see if you were as predictable as you look. As it turns out, yes you are."

I liked my lips, quickly growing very impatient. "So that's it? I can't see him? Why would he marry me if he was just going to pitch me out of the picture?"

The man frowned, taking a few steps closer. "You will be part of the picture, Mrs. Mikaelson. But first you'll have to prove yourself useful or else..." He chuckled. "Well, you know what his reputation is."

"Are you threatening me?"

"Merely warning," he nodded. "Now, if you will, please exit yourself from the premises."

The next thing I knew, I was outside the building with the door slowly closing in my face. My heart was beating faster than it had in my entire life, and my cheeks felt a sudden rush of cool air - the blood finally flowing somewhere other than my head.

Well, that could have been worse. I mean, I could have run into my actual husband.

But no. That would come as a surprise later on that night. Let's just skip ahead to that, shall we?

.

"So you went with the red," Lexi mumbled, propping her hands on her waist as she gazed at the dress I hung on my door. "Should have gotten black. You'd fit in more with the lawyers."

"Shut up," I growled. I sat on my bed in pjs while Lexi inspected the dress thoroughly. "I don't want to fit in, remember? I'm not being myself."

"Something tells me a mass murderer is going to see right through that act," she chuckled.

"What else am I supposed to do?" I demanded.

"How about just go through the motions and when the night's over, you can decide if you kill him or not."

"You mean if he kills me."

"No, I meant if you were going to 'kill' him, as in beat him with your words until he divorces you. God, having an actual killer in your life now kinda narrows down my ability to use the 'kill' metaphor."

"Oh, poor you."

That was all of my sarcastic answer that had the chance to leave my mouth. I was stopped short by the doorbell going off, followed by the sudden emptiness of the apartment. "Oh my God I'm going to die!" I hissed to Lexi.

Lexi managed to pull a straight face and usher me silently towards the door. I followed like a lost puppy, not wanting to be alone. She walked straight to the door, not even looking through the peephole before she pulled it open.

I instantly jumped behind the opening door, not wanting the block to slip from between the killer and myself. My eyes watched Lexi, taking in literally everything she did. The slight confident flip of her hair, the timid swallow, the hesitation before speaking, and her eyes never even blinking away from the man. She opened her mouth to say hello, but was interrupted by possibly the deadliest voice I'd ever heard - not anything like what I'd expected.

"I'm here for my wife."

Lexi shut her mouth instantly, lowering her head and turning to face me with a slightly ticked off expression on her face. My head shook aggressively, but she was having none of that. She walked away before I could reach out to grab her.

What was I doing? I'd have to face him sooner or later. I guess it wouldn't matter later that I was in my bathrobe.

So I sucked it up, grabbed the handle of the door, walked around it, and came face to face with an unpleasantly pleasant surprise. My stomach jumped up into my throat when I laid eyes on him. Cheekbones, blue eyes, eyebrows, scruff, dark blonde hair, and the lips...

"Caroline," he said, snapping me out of my gawking.

I shut my mouth and shook my head, clearing my mind. "Klaus."

He had this smug smirk on his face that made me want to slam the door in his face - but I didn't dare. "You look surprised," he mused.

I shrugged. "Did you expect boredom? I've done my research..."

He smirked as his eyes trailed down my body, bringing a blush up to my cheeks. His eyebrow quirked up. "When I said 'dress,' this wasn't exactly what I had in mind."

I cleared my throat, suddenly very interested in the color of my door. "For the law firm party, yeah... I'm not going."

Klaus watched me for a moment, waiting for more. But after a few seconds, he folded his hands in front of his suited body and licked his lips slowly. "Tell me, what have you discovered while asking around about me?"

My eyes fell down slowly. Killer.

As if he could read my mind, he nodded. "That's what I thought. I'll give you a mere five minutes to get ready. I'll be down by our limo. Do try to pamper yourself professionally. I will tolerate no childish games."

I looked up to catch his eye. "How do you know I won't just make a run for it?"

His eyes seemed to flash in excitement. "Because we both know what will happen to your pretty face if you do."

Shivers went up my spine. I'd forgotten for a second. Killer. How could I have forgotten that easily? How could I have let my mouth slip that easily? How easily would I make it for him to get sick of me?

He tilted his head down at me. "Five minutes," he repeated, then turned and left, walking briskly down the hall.

And let me tell you this, it took a lot less than five minutes for me to get ready. I was terrified - there was no way I was going to make him wait.

So I was down the stairs in what seemed like seconds and walking out into the night air, wearing a red dress made for a queen and my hair down in curls. The limo was parked at the entrance of the apartment building, so there was no need to look around for it. Klaus stood next to the back door, hands folded behind him as he waited for me.

But as I got closer, the fear in my stomach died down a bit and was replaced with confidence, all because of Klaus's face. His mouth opened just a tiny bit, and his eyes watched me with every step I took. I walked taller as I got closer to him, stopping beside the open car door. "You look surprised," I repeated his previous words.

He caught onto my repetition and locked his eyes onto mine. "Impressed, more like it. I was not expecting a regal beauty."

The confidence in my head only grew. "You've seen me under party circumstances before."

His eyes narrowed ever so slightly. "Yes, and if we're going off that impression, I was awaiting a slut."

And then the fire in my heart was gone. He knew how to bite back. I raised my head a little higher. "Then maybe you should pick your wives after you know them a little better."

That being said, I turned to get in the car, pleased I'd had the last word, but was halted when his hand lashed out and gripped my arm. Harshly. I lost my breath for a moment as I looked up to his angered face. "You would do well not to speak to me in such a manner," he growled down into my ear. His tone dripped with unspoken threats.

Yet I fought him. "The second you treat me like a human being, I'll do the same."

He had my back pressed into the side of the car in a flash. "Should I show you why my reputation is what it is?" he demanded. "Because I'll be more than happy to demonstrate and then proceed to find a brand new date for the evening. One with a little more controlled tongue."

My heart rate picked up dramatically. I could hear it even over my heavy breathing. My eyes looked back and forth between his, silently begging him not to hurt me. Silently telling him I understood. And hearing his not so silent promise to keep his word.

After what seemed like minutes of holding onto his menacing eyes, his hands released my arms, and he stepped back. "Now, are you going to act as my wife, or not?"

One simple nod was all I could offer.

He stretched his shoulders back, stepping completely away now. "Good. Now, get in."