‘Tis the season of Wicked Deeds (A Holiday romance Book 1)
‘Tis the season of Wicked Deeds: Chapter 6

If there is heaven on earth, I believe I’ve stumbled upon it.

Switzerland is jaw-droppingly scenic. Blissful beyond words. It carries so much beauty and peace in the air that I can feel them in my pores.

I landed at the Zurich Airport in the afternoon. The eight-hour flight was as expected—boring and tiring—so much so that the initial thrill of going on my first solo trip quickly dissipated. There’s only so much you can do while being buckled to your seat, with other passengers snoring in your ears. Reading isn’t something I enjoy, and I don’t have the attention span to watch more than one movie in a day.

However, upon arriving, my excitement was back to full throttle.

Adrenaline mixed with nerves was pumping in my veins.

I did it… I wanted to shout.

Now, I’m on my way to Zermatt, a quaint, touristy, and vibrant village known for its exuberant Christmas celebrations. People from all over the world visit it in the winter season. A perfect destination for the holidays.

I’m so pumped to explore all that it has to offer, especially the gorgeous and cozy chalet-style lodge I booked in advance for my stay. They look so cute, straight out of a Hallmark movie.

I’m thrumming with need; my feet aren’t staying still. My itinerary is a mile long and I hope I’m able to get through half of it.

From the airport, I went to the railway station to catch my train to Zermatt and reached my destination right on time.

Ever since I stepped foot on the train and sat in the window seat, I haven’t blinked once. I’ve been in awe while staring outside as we glide through tunnels and curves. There is a rich abundance of greenery, snowy hilltops, and the endless sky.

The trains and the stations here put the ones back home to shame.

While the inside of the train is warm, the outside is chilly as hell. The amount of snow and mountains has left me speechless. I haven’t seen so much of it in person. The closer we get to Zermatt, the thicker the snow becomes, making me want to sprint outside and face-plant myself in it.

Hopefully, I get a chance to build a snowman. Won’t that be fun? One is never too old to play with a snowman.

I cinch my trench coat tighter around my body as I sip my hot mocha. A jolt passing through my limbs at the welcome burst of warmth. The next hour flies by quickly, and the sun has almost set as the train whooshes to a stop. My body doesn’t even jerk, it’s that smooth and perfect.

I stand up as other passengers do the same, a few of them are tourists like me. Although they’re with family or friends, I strangely don’t feel alone. However, I do miss Tina and her constant bickering.

I definitely took a risk vacationing here in December, when the weather is extremely cold with equal chances of rain. But I’ve come prepared. I’m also not a fan of large crowds and prefer tranquility, so the fact that this trip will be slow and intimate is just a bonus.

I want to experience the local culture without the hustle and bustle of the tourists. To be a part of their culture as they celebrate the year-end festivities.

Gathering my big suitcase and hefting my handbag higher on my shoulder, I trail down the aisle. When the door swings open, a cold blast of air smacks me in the face.

Whoa… there’s no kidding about with winters here. Zermatt is at an even higher altitude with the stunning view of the Matterhorn glaciers. A spot I’m dying to see.

Despite the cold, I smile giddily like a lunatic. I can only imagine what I look like to other people: someone who has come out of hibernation after ages.

“Thank you,” I murmur to the man who helps me by lifting my suitcase to the platform. The station is surprisingly buzzing with shouts and whistles, as well as people rushing and talking loudly. Everyone is hurrying toward the electric cabs, waiting to take them to their hotels or homes.

Most hotels here provide a pickup service since no vehicles are allowed in the village—an interesting tidbit I learned when I picked Zermatt. I love the fact they prioritize nature and the environment, and make efforts to be eco-friendly.

Strolling to an empty spot, I pull out my phone, scroll to my contacts, and search for the hotel’s reception number. I had messaged them when I landed to let them know I’ll be arriving in Zermatt in a couple of hours.

It rings thrice before they answer, “Matterhorn Lodge, how may I help you?”

“Hi, it’s Twinkle,” I reply, hearing chatter in the background. “I wanted to know if the driver is here to pick me up?”

“Miss Twinkle, yes. The driver is waiting outside. I’ll text you his number.”

“Thank you.”

“We look forward to seeing you soon.”

After thanking her, I hang up the phone and wait for her text. It comes quickly and I immediately call the driver while rolling my luggage outside. I take in my surroundings, impressed with the infrastructure and the ambience.

From every corner, I’m able to see the snowy hills. Appearing as though they’re kissing the sky, alight with stars.

“Miss Twinkle?” a voice calls out in a thick German accent. I’m surprised I’m able to recognize my name.

I glance up at a middle-aged man a few feet away from me standing beside a blue electric taxi. I wave at him and he closes the gap with a polite smile.

“Welcome to Zermatt,” he greets. “Here, let me take the luggage.”

“Thank you. I hope I didn’t keep you waiting for long.”

We stroll toward the taxi, and he answers, “Not at all. I arrived ten minutes ago.”

“How far is the hotel?” I ask as he opens the trunk and puts my suitcase inside.

“Twenty minutes.” He gets behind the wheel while I sit in the back seat. “It’s a very beautiful location. You can see the Matterhorn as well as half of the town, which is especially stunning at night.”

“I can’t wait to see.”

As he drives down the smooth and inclined roads, he keeps me entertained with stories and facts about the little village, pointing out the must-see spots, the small shops, and best places for dining out.

Another interesting tradition I learned about is the Adventsfenster, where the local residents and shops decorate their windows in a holiday theme as a twenty-four-day countdown to Christmas Day. The windows stay closed until the day of the reveal, after all the families gather to watch the big show. It sounds so wholesome and amazing.

These little things are what makes me feel nostalgic. The feeling of togetherness and love and bonding. I hardly ever speak to my parents unless I’m the one who is calling them, which I only did on holidays. I’ve even stopped that now.

The saddest part—they haven’t once called back.

I brush the painful feeling away and focus on my driver’s jovial voice.

“You’ve arrived just in time because the final window will be opening tonight around midnight. If you aren’t jet-lagged, you must see it.”

“Sounds wonderful,” I reply excitedly. “I’ll definitely check it out.”

He smiles through the rearview mirror and we drive for another ten minutes before reaching the resort. I’ve booked one of the cabins. I’m praying it’s exactly like the pictures I saw and has a big hot tub, as mentioned on their site. Honestly, they have so many amazing amenities that I wouldn’t get bored if I decided to stay in.

Of course, I’m not going to do that.

My driver parks the car and gets out to unload my luggage. I step out into the snow-covered ground and let out a loud gasp as my stomach bottoms out. Hot air blows past my parted lips as I gaze at the eye-catching view.

The resort is indeed in a heavenly location.

I can see the shadows of the large mountains surrounding the small village. It’s as though I’ve landed in a fairytale movie. For a second, I completely forget about the cold and simply inhale the crisp evening air.

Basking it in for long moments, I finally walk down the gravel path cleared of snow toward the front desk inside. The brightly lit lobby is filled with a few lingering guests. A couple is talking to the receptionist. A porter carrying another guest’s suitcases to the elevator in a far corner.

There’s a waiting area to my right with two L-shaped couches and a low-top table. On my left, I see a sliding glass door, leading to the cottages surrounded by lush greenery.

As per my research online, this is a family-owned chain of resorts around Switzerland. They were rated the highest and I feel like I made the right decision in choosing them. They’ve been prompt and helpful in responding to all my queries.

I approach the front desk, recognizing the voice of the receptionist I talked to earlier on the phone. I stand behind the couple, unable to understand a single word since they’re talking in French. I guess it because I learned a bit in college. Meanwhile, I text Tina and her mom to let them know I’ve safely reached the hotel.

They both ping back immediately, making me smile at their caring nature.

I tuck my phone in my pocket and shift closer when the couple walks away.

“Hello, I’m Twinkle.”

“We’re so pleased to have you,” greets the receptionist named Hilda. “Was the cab ride here up to your delight?”

“Yes.”

With her eyes glued to the computer screen, she informs me, “Please give me a moment to check your booking.”

“Of course.”

Her fingers tap rapidly, eyes squinted as she reads. “Can I please see your passport as well as the booking confirmation?”

Resting my purse on the desk, I unzip it and pull out both and pass it to her. I watch her make a copy of my passport before returning it.

“I see you’ve booked our two-bedroom private lodge till January first.”

“Two bedrooms?” I frown. “That must be a mistake. I’m traveling alone. Can you please double-check?”

She clicks a few times before informing me, “No, Miss Twinkle, there doesn’t seem to be a mistake. Sorry, wait.” She pauses and reads the screen again. “Actually, these are two separate lodges but with a common balcony. Earlier, we used to reserve it for large families but recently, we’ve also made it available to single guests. Is that okay with you?”

“Yes, that’s fine. As long as I have my privacy, I don’t mind.”

“Perfect. If you could please sit in the waiting area, I’ll arrange for someone to take you to your lodge.”

Nodding, I stroll toward the now empty couch, which is looking tempting enough to sleep on. Instead of sitting, I walk around it and stare through the glass wall in the garden.

I’m so caught up in peering at the sky that it takes me a while to notice the reflection of a tall figure striding to the front desk.

My heart jackhammers, my mouth falling open as I recognize the tall frame. At first, I think I’m hallucinating. Then I blink and realize he’s still there.

Julian.

He’s here. In flesh and bones.

A mere foot from me.

I whirl around and almost stumble at the sight of those strong arms—belonging to an Adonis—that have been starring in my fantasies for the past six months.

Déjà vu hits as he leans forward, resting his elbows on the desk. I’m held captive in a trance by his sculpted body, encased in a brown leather jacket and worn denim jeans. His hair is mussed and his profile is just as gorgeous as I remember.

But what in the ever-loving fuck is he doing here? Of all the places in the world, did he really have to collide with me here? In the same country? The same freaking resort?

I don’t know whether to laugh or cry that the very thing I was low-key running from is now in the same room as me.

Glued to the spot, I watch him chitchat with the receptionist. I don’t eye any bags with him but it doesn’t ease my crippling anxiety. Because if he sees me, so many things could go wrong. The most disastrous will be discovering my real identity.

What if he decides to come after Tina and me for catfishing him? Or worse, sue the agency through which we met?

Man, I didn’t think it through when I said yes to Tina.

I can’t spend the next seven days pretending to be her either.

As if sensing the heat of my gaze, his head turns and those mischievous eyes scout the area with a pinched expression.

Run, Twinkle. Run.

My feet turn to stone, unmoving.

What are you doing, you idiot?

Move. Hide. He’ll see you.

I don’t know what comes over me, but a nanosecond before his gaze flicks in my direction, I dive behind the couch onto the wooden tiled floor. My knees smack hard on the surface and I muffle my wince. God! Please don’t let him see me.

This will be the most embarrassing tale of the century.

Mentally chastising myself for this dumb move, I listen for footsteps approaching in my direction. When no one appears in my line of sight, I breathe a sigh of relief. Discreetly peering from the back of the couch, I see another family talking to Hilda.

No sign of Julian.

Whew! Crisis averted.

I grin victoriously, mentally pumping my fist.

A throat clears behind me.

The grin flattens and I freeze, eyes automatically closing. After what feels like an eternity but are a measly few seconds, I gather some courage. I turn to my right and a pair of boots fills my line of sight.

Oh shit.