THE RISE OF THE CONGRESS MAN

005

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Malcom was forced out of his train of thought when Mr. Harthaway gestured for him to sit. “I’ve thought carefully about this, and I’ve decided to make you my personal assistant.”

Malcolm blinked, trying to hide his disappointment from showing on his face. He had hoped for something more grand.

Perhaps a position in politics or management. Something that made him feel less like a servant and more like someone important.

Still, he quickly reminded himself that he had just been jobless two days ago. And the salary Mr. Hathaway would pay him was going to be over five times what he earned at his previous job. That was no small thing.

Malcolm nodded and smiled politely. “Thank you, sir. I’m grateful.”

But Mr. Harthaway noticed the brief sign of disappointment in Malcolm’s eyes. He leaned forward, placing his hands on the desk.

“Malcolm,” he said gently, “I know you expected something more. But I need you to understand why I chose this path for you.”

Malcolm listened closely.

“If I suddenly give you a high-ranking position or power, people will talk. They’ll say the only reason you rose to power is because. They’ll gossip, tear you down, and you’ll become a target before you even learn to defend yourself in the political world,”

Mr. Hathaway stood up and walked around the desk to Malcolm’s side.

“But as my assistant, you’ll follow me to meetings, dinners, and events. You’ll meet powerful people, and I’ll slowly introduce you to the world I live in. You’ll build your own name, your own influence, and when the time is right, you’ll be able to stand tall without anyone questioning if you deserve it.”

Malcolm’s chest swelled with a new kind of pride. The kind that came from someone believing in him enough to build him up step by step.

Although he wasn’t literally building him up because Malcolm already had connections and knew powerful when his Dad was still alive and the president.

“I understand now, sir. And I’ll give this everything I’ve got,” he said.

Mr. Hathaway patted his shoulder. “That’s what I want to hear.”

The rest of the day passed smoothly.

Malcolm sat with Mr. Hathaway through meetings, took notes, and observed how the older man handled discussions and negotiations.

He didn’t speak much, but he listened carefully, and attentively.

When the workday ended, Malcolm didn’t go straight home. Instead, he went to the small, quiet cemetery on the outskirts of the city where his parents were buried.

Whenever he went there he always made sure to put on a face cap and nose mask to prevent people from seeing him and arousing suspicion.

He walked to the grave which had the names George Frost and Helena Frost on the head stone.

His parents.

He knelt down beside their graves, placing a small wildflower between the headstones.

“Hi, Mom. Hi, Dad,” he whispered, his voice shaking slightly. “It’s been a rough year… but I think things are finally changing and becoming better,”

He paused and smiled faintly.

“I found someone who believes in me. Someone who’s giving me a chance to be more than just a ghost of the past. I still miss you both so much. But I’m going to make you proud and get justice for us. I’ll make sure that the person responsible for your death's face my wrath. I promise.”

He stood there for a while in silence, feeling close to his parents and letting his grief fuel his passion for revenge.

Later that evening, Mr. Hathaway hosted a grand banquet at his mansion. It was a celebration that drew the attention of many top politicians, wealthy businessmen, and socialites from all corners of the country.

The hall sparkled with golden chandeliers, marble floors, and waiters in black and white uniforms offering champagne and small chops to the guest.

A soft classical tune played in the background. One that only played on occasions where the only the top people in the society.

Mr. Hathaway stood tall at the center of the room with a wide smile. Beside him stood Aurora, looking as ravishing as always.

And by her side was Malcolm, dressed in a well-fitted black suit Mr. Hathaway had quietly arranged for him.

When it was time for the main announcement, Mr. Hathaway tapped his wine glass with a spoon.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he began, “thank you all for being here. Tonight, I want to share something personal and very special with you all.”

The room grew silent.

“My daughter, Aurora, is engaged.”

The crowd gasped, and whispers spread like wildfire.

Mr. Hathaway continued. “And the man she’s going to marry is right here beside me. Meet Malcolm Frost, my future son-in-law.”

Gasps turned into loud murmurs as all eyes turned to Malcolm. Some were surprised. Some were curious. And a few had wide eyes of disbelief.

Among the crowd were Malcolm’s former and present coworkers. They stared at him with their mouths open.

“Isn’t that… Malcolm?” one of them whispered.

“The assistant? The guy with only two suits?”

“How is he engaged to Mr. Hathaway’s daughter?!”

“How did he even manage to wangle his way into their family?”

Malcolm stood still, his face calm though his heart was beating fast. He had never felt so many eyes on him at once since his parents died.

But he remembered Mr. Hathaway’s words—to grow step by step, to earn every bit of respect he received.

Aurora gently touched his hand. Her smile reassured him.

And as he stood there, surrounded by doubt and shock, Malcolm Frost knew one thing for sure:

His journey had finally begun.