How the Other Half Kill

Book 2: How the Other Half

by P. C. Roscoe

Genres: YA Contemporary Romance

Synopsis

A steamy YA thriller set at an exclusive alpine resort in the Swiss Alps where the ultrawealthy’s winter vacation is full of skis, schemes, scandals, and murder. Perfect for fans of Holly Jackson and older readers who enjoyed The White Lotus.

Revenge is a dish best served cold...

Chalet girl Reilly is spending the winter looking after ultra-rich guests in the luxury alpine resort of Verbier. But she's not there for the stunning slopes or the excellent après-ski—she's there to get justice for her best friend, Asma. Reilly will stop at nothing to expose beautiful socialite Minette as the ruthless bully who drove Asma to suicide.

The last thing Reilly needs is a distraction, but she can't deny her attraction to Jacob. Reilly feels like she could tell him anything. But revealing her true motivations would be even more dangerous than a black diamond run in a blizzard... When her plan snowballs out of control, will Reilly become the next victim?

Don't miss the thrilling companion, How the Other Half Die!

Release date: October 27, 2026

Publisher: Little, Brown Books for Young Readers

Print pages: 336

Sample

Minette jumped up and down trying to get warm. Her heavy boots crunched on the thick wedge of snow lining the driveway. She’d been out here for only, like, three minutes and was already freezing. She should have grabbed her coat. Blowing a stream of foggy breath into her hands, she rubbed the prickles out of her fingertips and tried to settle the flutter of excited nerves that danced in her chest. She almost couldn’t believe that Anike had convinced her dad to let her join them. She pulled out her phone and reread the messages.

Be there in five!

So excited to see you!

Anike might be excited, but Minette was ecstatic. Not only did she get to spend the next twelve days with her dorm mate from college, but they were going to be staying in ultra luxury. Usually, she and Maman stayed in the hotel, just a little farther down the hill.

Located not too far from Verbier, the Swiss village of Val D’Amer Doux also bordered France, but was even more exclusive than the better-known ski hub. And the reason? The Vandenburgs.

Their hotel was incredible. It was a beautiful building of warm wood and pale stone with huge expansive windows that glinted in the afternoon sun. It was the place to be in Mont Blanc. Rooms were booked out nearly eighteen months in advance, and their Michelin-starred restaurant welcomed celebrity chefs as often as it did guests. But this year, Minette was staying in one of the chalets in the Vandenburg Resort. Most people didn’t even know about them, as they were reserved exclusively for a very select few.

Maman could have booked one of these on any of their previous visits if she had wanted, but her mother always insisted on staying in the Vandenburg Hotel. Minette had never understood why. Not that she would have dared ask, nor would Charlotte Aillet ever have explained herself. Maman hadn’t become a diplomat by being nice.

But this year Minette was staying in one of the four chalets. And of course she was looking forward to the kind of luxury most people didn’t even hear about. But what she was most excited about was being so close to the chalet where Noah and his family were staying.

Minette’s heart fluttered. She hadn’t seen her boyfriend much in the last three months since they’d both started college. She was in Paris studying at the Sorbonne and he was in England at Cambridge. It had been a huge change from spending all their time together at the Swiss boarding school where they’d met. One she hadn’t been sure that their relationship would survive—despite being voted “most likely to get married” by their school friends. But they had made it, she thought with a sense of unfurling satisfaction in her chest, and tonight she’d get to see him again.

Minette peered down the hill to see if she could spot Anike’s car on the road that wound through the large skiing village and passed the Vandenburg Hotel where, right about now, her mother would probably be sunk into one of their world-famous steam baths.

It made her wonder what her father was doing. Papa usually worked during the Christmas period. Last year it had been Zurich, which was close by, but this year he was in Hong Kong, which felt a million miles away.

Business never stops, ma chérie.

It was always about business.

“Business” was why Anike’s father had thrown a fit when he’d got wind of what had happened when Anike had caught her boyfriend Jacques cheating on her with her best friend, two weeks ago. Some might have found it funny that Anike had tracked Jacques down at the hottest club in the Ivory Coast, identified his Bugatti Veyron, graffitied a swear word on the side and smashed in the passenger window with a tire iron. The press certainly had. But her father? One of the wealthiest men in the Ivory Coast, on the brink of a hugely important business deal? Pas du tout.

He’d been furious that his daughter’s dating life had jeopardized his company’s interests and had threatened to put Anike under house arrest, but she’d convinced him that a few weeks in Val D’Amer Doux with her college dorm mate would achieve the same ends—get her away from Jacques and the press.

His agreement had been conditional: a bodyguard and the exorbitant cost of securing a private chalet at the Vandenburg Resort. It wasn’t as if she or Anike were complaining; they were about to have the best Christmas ever!

Each dwelling was nestled in an extremely private cul-de-sac set back from a private road that accessed the four chalets on the mountainside that overlooked Val D’Amer Doux. And each chalet had a host, servicing the lodge twenty-four hours a day. A car with a private driver was also on hand to take any guest wherever they needed to go.

Not that they would need to go anywhere. Everything they could ever dream of was immediately on hand. Like the spa center! She’d visited that in past years with Hugo Vandenburg—the owners’ son—and Noah and their friends. It had the most incredible sauna, a scented steam room, a treatment suite and a heated swimming pool that started inside, looped outside to look out over the mountain and slopes and then came back in again. And if that wasn’t enough, there was an outdoor hot tub large enough for twelve people.

There was also access to the private ski track that cut through the woods and led directly on to the slopes that criss-crossed the mountains linking Switzerland, Italy and France. But since Minette had absolutely no intention of squeezing her feet into the torture traps known as ski boots and strapping on a pair of skis, she’d be using the car to get around the resort. A lot.

Her phone vibrated in her hand and she looked at the screen.

URGH. This driver is SLOW. Send me a pic.

I want to see it. Pleeeaaassseee!

Minette turned and snapped a couple of pictures of the chalet behind her. It jutted out of the side of the mountain on three levels, fronted in that same rich yellow wood and stone that was used for the Vandenburg Hotel. Balconies emerged from each large floor-to-ceiling window, ensuring views of the incredible mountain from every possible angle. Behind it, snow-covered fir trees reached toward a denim-blue, cloudless sky and Minette didn’t think it could be more perfect.

BORING! I want saunas and hot tubs and champagne.

Minette laughed, selecting the other pictures she’d taken twenty minutes ago from her photo library and sending them to Anike.

While she waited for the three dots beside Anike’s name to turn into a message, she quickly flicked over to her last chat with Noah.

Can’t wait to see you, love.

Me too. It’s been so long!

What are the chances of us getting your chalet to ourselves??!!

Minette bit her lip. The Scarisbricks had never allowed her to stay over, even though they were adults now. But for one of Europe’s richest families, appearances were everything. But the possibility of spending time with Noah on her own? With no one else about? A twinge of guilt pinged in her chest as she realized that Anike wasn’t even here yet and she was trying to figure out a way to get rid of her.

Her phone vibrated again, drawing her out of her thoughts.

Yay! Just what I need after that bastard Jacques.

It vibrated again before she could reply.

Nearly there!

Minette jumped up and down again trying to shake off the cold and decided she didn’t have time to run back in and get her coat. She could probably message the chalet girl from here and get her to bring it out to her. In an ideal world, they wouldn’t be sharing the chalet with anyone, let alone some English girl their age. But it would be nice having all their meals prepared for them and someone to keep the chalet clean and to organize days out if they wanted them.

Just then, Minette heard the sound of wheels crunching over the grit-covered snow as a car turned into the cul-de-sac. It pulled up in front of her, the door pushed open and Minette was swept up into a hug that almost suffocated her. Wrapped in an oversized faux-fur coat, Anike Dossongui embraced Minette as if she’d just saved her from drowning.

“I needed this,” Anike whispered into her ear.

“I know,” Minette replied.

“I really needed this,” Anike insisted.

“I know,” Minette repeated with a laugh and a squeeze for good measure.

Finally releasing her, Anike pulled back, allowing Minette to take her in properly. The dark smudges beneath her eyes, which had not been there once during the entire semester at the Sorbonne, were enough to tell Minette how much Jacques had actually hurt her. But despite being jet-lagged from her flight and emotionally reeling, Anike was still gloriously beautiful. At the beginning of December, Anike had styled her hair into two-strand twists that hung all the way to her elbows. Today she had tied half of those locs back from her face, showcasing her enviably high cheekbones and large brown eyes that sparkled with excitement.

“We’re going straight to the spa that you told me about,” Anike announced.

“Of course we are,” Minette laughed.

A man dressed head to toe in black military-style gear climbed out of the car and Anike rolled her eyes.

“Papa’s guard dog,” Anike complained. “He’s going to be watching our every move.”

“We’ll work something out,” Minette insisted in a whisper.

Anike didn’t look so sure.

“Take my things to the chalet,” Anike ordered the bodyguard, before turning back to Minette. “Now where is that champagne you showed me?”

Reilly looked in the mirror and tucked a blond tendril of hair behind her ear. She was just about getting used to the change in color. She hadn’t expected it to impact her appearance so much. And the slight touch of color on her skin from the few days of glorious sunshine she’d experienced in Val D’Amer Doux had given her the kind of healthy glow she hadn’t seen in a while. Reilly had considered colored contact lenses, and even tried them, but they’d made her eyes water, so they’d been thrown straight in the bin.

She’d even thought about changing her name, but had decided against it. The only two people she needed to not recognize her were unlikely to remember the quiet, unassuming girl she’d once been.

Reilly pulled on the Vandenburg polo she had to wear as part of the “house” uniform and smoothed it down over her stomach. It had been nearly seven years since her family had lost the kind of fortune that would have seen her come to a place like this as a guest rather than a staff member, but still she remembered what it had been like. What they could be like.

The rich.

She rolled her shoulders back and thrust her chest out proud and determined. She wasn’t embarrassed by her lack of money or access. It had made her stronger. Strong enough to do what she needed to do.

Reilly’s phone beeped. She picked it up and read the message from Lisolette.

Have they arrived yet?

“They” being her chalet’s guests.

Minette had left the chalet to wait for her friend, Anike, daughter of Ivorian billionaire businessman N’Guessan Dossongui. The dossier provided to her by Savannah Coates, the stern Vandenburg Resort manager, had detailed both pertinent and non-pertinent information about her “guests.” Likes, dislikes, favorite foods, allergies, preferences and favored pastimes, as well as a worrying amount of information about their personal lives, had been provided, making her wonder what information would have been provided about herself had she been a guest here.

Reilly Clarke, nineteen years old. Parents: Mike and Emma. Once considered for the Olympic skiing team before a change in circumstances removed her from the slopes. Deferred place to study criminology at UC Berkeley on a scholarship. No extracurricular activities. No life. After losing his housing development company, father is now working in sales and miserable. Mother working as a dental hygienist and resentful. Likes: skiing, hot chocolate and podcasts. Dislikes: bullies, arrogance and cold showers.

Reilly laughed at herself in the mirror. Even at the height of her father’s success before the recession hit too hard and he was forced to declare bankruptcy, they’d never have been able to afford a place like this. The Vandenburg Hotel farther down the mountain, maybe, but not the chalets, not the resort. Her best friend’s family might have once, but that was in a different lifetime.

Returning to the message, she typed out her reply.

A just arrived. M outside to meet her.

Good.

I’m not sure when I’m going to be able to get away.

Don’t worry about me.

You do what you need to do and I’ll help any way I can.

You’ve already done so much.

And she really had. When Reilly had first met Lisolette Keller, she hadn’t been where she was now—head of housekeeping at the Vandenburg Hotel. But it was Lisolette’s role here in Val D’Amer Doux that had enabled Reilly to get in front of Savannah Coates. Without Lisolette, she’d never have gotten her résumé read, let alone had an interview.

It had taken nearly two months of vetting and four separate interviews, three of which had been online, before she had been flown out for the last meeting in person. But Reilly understood. Access to the people who vacationed here—the Aillets, the Dossonguis, the Scarisbricks, who might not be royal in title but far outstripped royal wealth—was restricted for a reason.

Leaving the small room tucked away in the basement of the ultraluxurious private chalet, Reilly made her way out into the rest of the building.

In the three days since she’d arrived, she’d familiarized herself with every inch of the three-storied chalet, undergone a two-day induction as well as being thoroughly tested by Savannah. She’d grappled with cooking, cleaning and a series of scenario-based role plays—which, frankly, she’d been relieved to pass—and finally she had been given a one-on-one with the owner.

Mark Vandenburg was as welcoming as Savannah Coates was intimidating, but no matter how approachable he appeared, Reilly wasn’t naive enough to let that fool her. The man was a billionaire several times over, and while she’d heard rumors of a split with his husband, there was nothing distracted or weak about him. His son, Hugo, was a year older than Reilly, and from their very brief interaction, seemed polite and easygoing.

Neither one of them had displayed anything so much as a hint of what was rumored to have happened over the summer on their private Caribbean island resort. Given that it could impact her time here, Reilly had done as much research on it as she could. Information was scarce and speculation was rife.

A guest had died on Mokani Island, the son of a wealthy family had been arrested for murder and authorities were seeking extradition from the small South American island that the father, Dennis Devereux, had been rumored to have fled to. But Reilly hadn’t heard even a whisper about it since arriving in Val D’Amer Doux under the employ of the Vandenburgs. Not that she was surprised. Reilly knew better than most that rumors didn’t mean a thing.

Proof was king in this world. Proof was power. Proof was what she needed.

Without it, she’d never get justice.

Reilly’s phone vibrated with the reminder for the drinks reception scheduled that evening and the staff meeting set to follow it. There were only two events that she was required to “work” at outside of her obligations as a chalet host. That evening’s drink reception and the Christmas Eve party. Not only did the double-up of duties give the “family” impression, which was a significant part of the Vandenburg brand, but also served to limit the number of staff that could sell their stories to a very well-paying press.

Making her way out of her small room and into the living areas of the chalet, Reilly found her eyes drawn to the impossibly large floor-to-ceiling window that stretched the entire length of the wall. On one side of the space was a sunken sofa suite that could easily accommodate twelve people. Fur throws were draped over buttery caramel-colored leather. A huge coffee table, hand-carved from a single piece of oak, stood proudly opposite a sleek black fireplace with a mantel that was nearly as tall as she was. It should have dominated the room, but nothing could distract from the incredible view.

Wide slopes crisscrossed the mountainside dotted with small patches of trees and lined by button lifts on the lower sections and chair lifts from the middle, ready to take you not only higher up the valley but also across country borders.

The first time she’d skied here she’d thought she was in heaven. The challenge of it had thrilled her, the speeds she’d reached, incredible. It had been her and the mountain, nothing but the snow beneath her skis and the wind rushing in her ears. She’d loved it. And she’d been good at it. Damn near perfect.

Her memories tangled with hopes and snagged on losses and spun around the sound of her best friend’s laughter. The best friend who had brought her on vacations to ski slopes around the world long after Reilly had been forced to move schools because they could no longer afford the exorbitant fees. Reilly clenched her jaw, for the first time not quite seeing the glorious white-capped mountains and blue sky.

She’d been forced to leave her best friend behind and Reilly knew that if she hadn’t left, things would have been different. So very different.

A squeal from outside cut through her thoughts and jolted her nerves. So much depended on this first meeting. They were more than just her first guests as a Vandenburg employee. If she did this right, if her plan succeeded, then they would also be her last.

She arrived just in time to greet them as they crossed the threshold, their laughter drying up when they caught sight of her standing there.

“Hi,” Reilly said, with a broad smile to cover the train of her previous thoughts. “Welcome to your home for the next twelve days. My name is Reilly, and I’ll be hosting you. It’s really lovely to meet you both. Is English OK?” she asked. “Or I can speak French if—”

Anike waved her off before Reilly could offer any more languages. “English is fine, I need the practice anyway,” she said, worded perfectly, before tossing a glare at the man Reilly recognized from the dossier as Anike’s bodyguard, Karel, busy unloading bags from the car.

“Wonderful!” Reilly exclaimed. “Now, would you like some champagne while I give you the tour of the chalet, or just the tour? Or just the champagne?” Reilly pointed to the ice bucket she’d prepared with flutes of champagne, the rim of which was punctuated with a chunk of strawberry.

“Oooh, we’re going to get on well,” Anike replied, with a wagging finger. “Champagne while we tour and then…”

“The sauna at the spa center? Surely that’s the only way to start a ski holiday,” Reilly dangled.

“Yes! Yes, and yes,” Anike agreed, passing the glass Reilly offered her to Minette and taking the second one for herself. “Let’s go, girls.”

Blowing out a breath that turned white in the frigid air, Jacob paused on the private road that led to the chalet at the top of the hill. Christ, this was something else. He’d been skiing before, but the places he’d gone to—Breckenridge, Vail, Telluride—had nothing on this. The mountains stretched out before him like a picture from a magazine—so perfect, they didn’t seem real. He couldn’t take his eyes off them.

The cold nipped at his cheeks, and his heart—working a little harder to get him up the sharp incline—thumped strongly in his chest. The snow cracked and shifted around him. The trees on either side of the road groaned beneath the weight of last night’s snowfall, trembling when birds landed delicately on their branches.

Peaceful. Serene. A gift.

A literal gift.

“Why don’t you come for Christmas?” Hugo had asked about a month ago.

Yeah right. As if, just like that, he and his parents could fly over to Europe for twelve days.

“Honestly, you’d be doing me—us—a favor. It’s not going to be the same this year without Darian, but Mark will try and it’ll just be messed up. So please come. Dad has already said it’s fine. It won’t cost you a thing, promise.”

Hugo’s parents were taking things slowly after Darian’s affair nearly blew their marriage apart, and all three of them were trying really hard to get past the events of last summer.

So, Jacob had hesitantly asked his father. Three years ago it wouldn’t have been much of a stretch. They had been doing well financially for themselves—great actually. But that had been before his mother’s accident. And before the medical bills that exceeded health insurance had eaten into their savings, so Jacob genuinely hadn’t known if his dad would say yes. But his parents had agreed that it would be nice to get away for a bit.

They’d arrived late last night and stepped straight into the most out-of-this-world-level luxury they could ever imagine. His parents’ master suite had its own living room, an en suite bathroom and a balcony with a hot tub on the deck that looked out over the forest behind the chalet. There was a media room, which was a posh name for what turned out to be a mini movie theater, a game room and a boot room in the garage that had every type of ski equipment that Jacob could dream of, not to mention direct access to the private ski road that would take him directly to the bottom of the central slope.

He and his father had grinned like they’d just won the lottery. Marcus—the guy acting as chalet host—seemed cool and easygoing and had made them dinner on their arrival despite them saying that it was too late for him to be working. And that morning Jacob had woken up in a super-king-sized bed in a room with a view ou. . .