Hetalia Switzerland Novels & Stories

"Your belongings have already been transferred to the penthouse. Everything you packed for Zurich is aboard the jet." Zurich. The honeymoon destination I'd only learned about from the itinerary James had sent over yesterday. Three days in Switzerland while Alexander attended business meetings and I... what? Sat in a hotel room contemplating my new reality? "How romantic," Maya muttered, just loudly enough for both of us to hear. Alexander's expression didn't change, but something in his eyes hardened slightly. "If you'll excuse us, Ms. Chen. I need a moment with my wife." Wife. The word still sounded foreign, especially coming from his lips.

Large windows revealed a view of mountains and forest. "Welcome back," Diego said softly from beside her. He looked terrible—unshaven, exhausted, with dark circles beneath his eyes. But his smile was radiant with relief. "Where...?" Her voice came out raspy from disuse. "Switzerland," Diego supplied, offering her water through a straw. "One of Vincent's properties. Secure and private." Sarah sipped gratefully, memories returning in fragments. The warehouse. Agent Thompson. The gunshot. "How long?" she managed.

"You are right. You're always right. I'll try talking—" "I am coming with you to Switzerland." "Absolutely not." "Lucien, I'm coming with you, and it's not up for argument. End of discussion." He studied my face for a long moment. His jaw worked, clearly running through arguments and counterarguments in his head. Finally, he sighed. "You're not going to back down, are you?" "Not a chance." "That's good. You should always stand your ground." He pulled me close, pressing his forehead to mine. "We go together. We handle this together." "Two tickets to Switzerland, coming right up!"

Lucian said, relief evident in his voice. As Damian walked back inside to make the arrangements, Lucian pulled me close. "Switzerland it is," he whispered. "Looks like the universe wants us to freeze together." I laughed, the disappointment melting away. "As long as I’m with you, I don't care if it’s a desert or an iceberg." ------------------------------------

"You cannot take that child on a plane!" Noah crossed his arms. "Excuse me?" "Switzerland?" Vivian yelled. "You're taking a high-risk pregnancy and a toddler to Switzerland in the middle of the night? Do you know what the altitude does to blood pressure? You'll hemorrhage before you hit the Atlantic!" "Who told you we were going to Switzerland?" Noah asked. His voice was dangerously calm. Vivian froze. Her mouth snapped shut. She looked from Noah to Aria. She saw the lack of suitcases. She saw the calm stillness of the room.

“I hoped you were dead.” He snorted. “Ardian mentioned you got mouthy.” I sucked in a sharp breath, clamping down on the terror rising within me. I hated Ardian's second nearly as much as I hated that sick bastard himself. “Where are we?” I demanded, looking at the window but seeing nothing but clouds. A wicked grin stretched across his face. “We're going to Europe. You need to visit a certain foundation in Switzerland.” My stomach dropped. “Switzerland,” I breathed, recalling everything I remembered about the inheritance.

The Switzerland dream is burning to the ground right along with this house. And if we’re going to die in these woods, I’m going to make sure she has to step over a mountain of her own men to see the bodies.

It was already set in motion. And the worst part? Zayn had known all along. The Crossroads Ayesha’s hands shook with rage. “Where is the control hub?” Zayn hesitated. Ayesha’s voice hardened. “Where, Zayn?” Zayn met her gaze. Then, finally, he answered. “Geneva.” Silence. Leena exhaled. “Switzerland. Of course it’s Switzerland.” Adrian cracked his knuckles. “So we end this in three days.”

Damon asked. I smiled, teeth just barely showing. “Blackridge will be watching the wrong door.” Outside, the sun dipped lower, casting the lake in gold and shadow. Somewhere in this immaculate city, deals were already being drafted. Lines were being crossed. Decisions made under the assumption that Vale would react instead of act. They were about to be disappointed. And as the first lights of Geneva flickered on, one truth settled deep in my bones: Switzerland wasn’t neutral. It was a battlefield with better manners.

“This morning. I took an earlier flight. So I could make sure the car was sorted and the house was ready.” He popped the trunk of the car and, despite her protest, hefted her suitcase inside. “What are your first impressions of Switzerland so far?” She looked around as he closed the trunk. “Well, I’ve been here less than thirty minutes, so my review is limited. But first off, it’s breathtakingly beautiful. And,” she hugged her coat tighter, “it’s really, really cold.” “It grows on you,” he said, opening the passenger door for her. “Maybe we’ll have some time to show you around a bit. There’s a village near the farmhouse with a decent fondue place.”