With a will of steel, Polish immigrant Florentyna Rosnovski is indeed Abel's daughter. She shares with her father a love of America, his ideals, and his dream for the future. BONUS MATERIAL INCLUDED: 1st chapter of Jeffrey Archer's newest novel SINS OF THE FATHER, coming May Read "The Prodigal Daughter" by Jeffrey Archer available from Rakuten Kobo. Sign up today and get $5 off your first download. With a will of steel, Polish. The Prodigal Daughter by Jeffrey Archer. Florentyna Kane inherited a vast hotel empire from her father, but his greatest gift to her was a love of America.

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He extended a finger, which his daughter grabbed like a lifeline thrown from a sinking ship.

She started to bite the finger with what she imagined were teeth…. When Abel first arrived in Chicago he found the Richmond Continental badly run down.

The manager, Desmond Pacey, was milking the books and as far as Abel could tell probably had been for the past thirty years. The new assistant manager spent his first six months gathering together the proof he needed to nail Pacey and then presented his employer with a dossier containing all the facts.

From that moment they became partners, a professional bond that developed into a close friendship. Abel would have been the first to appreciate how hard it was for a Texan to acknowledge a Pole as an equal.

For the first time since he had settled in America, he felt secure—until he found out that the Texans were every bit as proud a clan as the Poles. Then he had opened the window and jumped. Abel would never forget standing on the corner of Michigan Avenue at four in the morning having to identify a body he could recognize only by the jacket his mentor had worn the previous night.

The Prodigal Daughter

The lieutenant investigating the death had remarked that it had been the seventh suicide in Chicago that day. How could the policeman possibly know how much Davis Leroy had done for him, or how much more Abel Rosnovski had intended to do in return for that friendship in the future? In a hastily composed will Davis had bequeathed the remaining 75 percent of the Richmond Group stock to his managing director, writing to Abel that although the stock was worthless, percent ownership of the group might give him a better chance to negotiate new terms with the bank.

Abel picked her up lovingly, immediately regretting the decision as he felt the damp, clammy bottom.

He changed her diaper quickly, drying the child carefully, before making a triangle of the cloth, not allowing the big pins anywhere near her body: any midwife would have nodded her approval at his deftness. Ungrateful brat, he murmured fondly as he kissed her on the cheek. He tried to convince the bank that if only they would back him, he could—given time—turn the balance sheet from red into black.

I have responsibilities to my own clients to consider, he had used as an excuse. Abel would never forget the humiliation of having to call a man of his own age sir and still leave empty-handed. The man must have had the soul of a cash register not to realize how many people were affected by his decision. Abel promised himself, for the hundredth time, that one day he would get even with Mr.

William Ivy League Kane. Abel had traveled back to Chicago thinking that nothing else could go wrong in his life, only to find the Richmond Continental burned to the ground and the police accusing him of arson. Arson it proved to be, but at the hands of Desmond Pacey bent on revenge.

When arrested, he readily admitted the crime; his only interest was the downfall of Abel. Until that moment, Abel had wondered if he would not have been better off in the Russian prisoner-of-war camp he had escaped from before fleeing to America. But then his luck turned when an anonymous backer, who, Abel concluded, must be David Maxton of the Stevens Hotel, downloadd the Richmond Group and offered Abel his old position as managing director and a chance to prove he could run the company at a profit.

Abel recalled how he had been reunited with Zaphia, the self-assured girl he had first met on board the ship that had brought them to America. How immature she had made him feel then, but not when they remet and he discovered she was a waitress at the Stevens.

Once Pacey had been convicted of arson, Abel had only to wait for the insurance money to be paid before he could set about rebuilding the hotel in Chicago. He had used the interim period to visit the other ten hotels in the group, sacking staff who showed the same pecuniary tendencies as Desmond Pacey and replacing them from the long lines of unemployed that stretched across America. But Abel realized that if he was to keep his side of the bargain with the anonymous backer, there would be little time to sit around at home, however much he adored his daughter.

He had been given ten years to repay the bank loan; if he succeeded, a clause in the contract stipulated, he would be allowed to download all the stock in the company for a further three million dollars. Zaphia thanked God each night for what they already had and pleaded with him to slow down, but nothing was going to stop Abel from trying to fulfill the contract to the letter. Dinner is ready. No, dear. Just coming. Abel reluctantly rose to join his wife for dinner.

He picked up the fluffy quilt and placed it carefully on top of the blanket that covered his daughter. He never wanted her to feel the cold. She smiled in her sleep. Was she having her first dream? Abel wondered as he switched out the light. He had invited over a hundred guests to celebrate the occasion.

The guests devoured a traditional ten-course dinner including pirogi and bigos while Abel sat at the head of the table accepting gifts on behalf of his daughter. There was a silver rattle, U.

The Prodigal Daughter

He only hoped that the man gained as much pleasure in the giving as his daughter showed in the receiving. To mark the occasion, Abel presented his daughter with a large brown teddy bear with red eyes. It looks like Franklin D. Roosevelt, said George, holding the bear up for all to see. This calls for a second christening—FDR. Abel raised his glass.

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President, he toasted—a name the bear never relinquished. The party finally came to an end about 3 A. George waved to Abel as he headed off down Lake Shore Drive, pushing the cart before him. The happy father began whistling to himself as he recalled every moment of the wonderful evening. Only when Mr. President fell off the cart for a third time did Abel realize how crooked his path must have been down Lake Shore Drive. He picked up the bear and wedged it into the center of the gifts and was about to attempt a straighter path when a hand touched his shoulder.

He stared up into the face of a young policeman.

Other than Franklin D. The policeman immediately arrested Abel on suspicion of larceny. While the recipient of the gifts slept soundly under her red eiderdown quilt in the little nursery at the top of the house on Rigg Street, her father spent a sleepless night on an old horsehair mattress in a cell at the local jail.

The next day Abel downloadd a maroon four-door Buick from Peter Sosnkowski, who ran a secondhand car lot in Logan Square.

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Abel began to resent having to leave Chicago and his beloved Florentyna even for a few days, fearing he might miss her first step, her first word or her first anything. From her birth, he had supervised her daily routine, never allowing Polish to be spoken in the house; he was determined there be no trace of a Polish accent that would make her feel ill at ease in society. Abel had intently waited for her first word, hoping it would be Papa, while Zaphia feared it might be some Polish word that would reveal that she had not been speaking English to her firstborn when they were alone.

My daughter is an American, he explained to Zaphia, and she must therefore speak English. Except their own countrymen who still feel some loyalty to the Polish empire, said Zaphia defensively. The Polish empire? What century are you living in, Zaphia? The twentieth century, she said, her voice rising.

Along with Dick Tracy and Famous Funnies, no doubt? Hardly the attitude of someone whose ultimate ambition is to return to Warsaw as the first Polish ambassador. By , Abel was convinced that America had turned the corner and that the Depression was a thing of the past, so he decided the time had come to build the new Chicago Baron on the site of the old Richmond Continental.

He appointed an architect and began spending more time in the Windy City and less on the road, determined that the hotel would turn out to be the finest in the Midwest. Looks like a million dollars, said Hamilton Lewis, the senior senator.

The final touch had been the dark green embossed B that adorned everything from the towels in the bathrooms to the flag that fluttered on the top of the forty-two-story building. Only days before Britain declares war on Germany, Harry Clifton, hoping to escape the consequences of long-buried family secrets, and forced to accept that his desire to marry Emma Barrington will never be fulfilled, has joined the Merchant Navy.

But his ship is sunk in the Atlantic by a German U-boat, drowning almost the entire crew. When Bradshaw dies in the night, Harry seizes on the chance to escape his tangled past and assumes his identity.

On landing in America, however, Bradshaw quickly learns the mistake he has made, when he discovers what is awaiting him in New York. Without any way of proving his true identity, Harry Clifton is now chained to a past that could be far worse than the one he had hoped to escape. Archer plays a cat-and-mouse game with the reader. His novels are dramatic, fast moving, totally entertaining-and almost impossible to put down.

Jeffrey Archer was educated at Oxford University. Archer is married with two sons and lives in London and Cambridge.

Toggle navigation. New to eBooks.I want to ask your advice on what I should do about William Kane. The Burning Shore. Barbara Taylor Bradford. I enjoyed this book as much as the 1st book in the series and I now look forward to reading the 3rd book and last of the series. She smiled in her sleep.

And poor Richard. My daughter is an American, he explained to Zaphia, and she must therefore speak English. Truth or Die.