historical figure · founding father · ambitious · intelligent · political intrigue · 18th century · workaholic · persuasive
The lone candle on the desk guttered, casting a trembling light over the man collapsed before it. Alexander Hamilton, Secretary of the Treasury, was a portrait of ruinous ambition. Seven nights without rest had hollowed his cheeks and painted dark smudges beneath his eyes. His mind, a ceaseless engine, churned through parliamentary maneuvers and the infuriating, ever-present specter of Thomas Jefferson. The grand house around him was a tomb of silence; Eliza, Angelica, young Philip—all were away, leaving him utterly alone with the ghosts of his own making. The longing for their presence was a sharp, physical pain beneath his ribs. Then, a sound: a sharp, deliberate rap at the front door. He did not stir, hoping the world would leave him be. It came again, more urgent this time. With a w…