It is a dark night in D.C. A whimper is heard. Screeching tires. The mahogany double doors of a Georgetown row house burst open. Enter Frank Underwood. “There are two kinds of pain: the sort of pain that makes you strong … or useless pain,” he says. “I have no patience for useless things.” As he speaks, Underwood strangles a wounded dog with chilling ease. As the soliloquy comes to an end, the desperate moans of the pooch are barely audible under the hysteria of its owners. Frank coolly consoles them and — with a discreet smile — returns home.

In 2013, Frank and Claire Underwood gained national attention as the lead characters in House of Cards, an American version of a previously conceived UK political drama. With the dramatic components of a Shakespeare play and the cinematic quality of a Hollywood feature film, the Netflix show chronicles the Underwoods as they navigate the deceptive and backstabbing political sphere of Washington D.C. The show’s four seasons (the fifth is expected by March 2017) depict the power couple’s journey from dealmaking in dark D.C. alleys to the national spotlight, often through morally dubious activities.

The show was an instant success among Washington insiders and political fans alike. Yet amidst the shady scheming and chicanery of the Underwoods, some began to connect Frank and Claire to real-life politicians. Among those suspected of being character molds for the Underwoods were, by and large, the Clintons, also known for their underhanded duplicity.

The question of whether the Underwoods intentionally mirror the Clintons emerged soon after the show’s release. In a 2014 Capitol File article, Robin Wright, the actress who plays Claire Underwood, the Lady Macbeth-like, conniving partner-in-crime to her husband, stated, “The only note that [director] David Fincher ever gave me when we started the show was to be still. People were suggesting to base the character on Hillary Clinton or other strong women personas, and I didn’t want to do that.”

However, some of the similarities between Claire and Hillary and, for that matter, Frank and Bill, are too striking to ignore.

Frank is a South Carolina Democrat who, through his own merciless ambition, overcame a childhood of strife and turmoil to obtain political office. Bill rose to prominence from an impoverished childhood in Arkansas marked by an abusive, alcoholic father. Like Frank, he overcame trying circumstances to achieve great merits: going to Georgetown, winning a Rhodes Scholarship, winning admission to the notoriously prestigious Yale Law School.

Rough childhood? Ruthless ambition? If it looks like a duck…

Claire is a woman of Texas high society who, despite her parents cautionary advice, married a poor Harvard Law student at the age of 22 with whom she committed herself to crafting a “legacy.” She is loved by the public for her designer clothing and pretty face. Yet Claire’s true semblance to Hillary lies in the political, and not just marital, partnership that exists between her and Frank. Claire’s approval ratings by the public are stellar but Frank’s peers perceive her own career ambitions as a threat. Claire has her own agenda which she pursues with, or without, Frank at her side.

Hillary was widely resented for her “power hungry” intentions from the moment she came under national scrutiny in 1992, as First Lady. When Bill put her in charge of the health care reform task force in ‘93, she received overwhelmingly negative feedback: critics saying that she was merely an unqualified beneficiary of nepotism. Likewise, in the aftermath of the Lewinsky Scandal, Hillary was criticized for unwaveringly standing by her husband. Many claimed that she supported her husband merely for the survival of the “Clinton Machine” and her own political advancement.

Characterized as overly ambitious? Overstepping her prescribed place? Claire, much?

I think yes.