Eight Brothers' Fiancée: A Reverse Harem Romance (Love by Numbers Book 7)

by Nicole Casey

  Eight Brothers’ Fiancée

  A Reverse Harem Romance (Love by Numbers Book 7)

  Nicole Casey

  © Copyright 2020 by Nicole Casey - All rights reserved.

  Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored, or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or by any means (electronically, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise) without the proper written permission of the copyright owner, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This book is a work of fiction. People, places, events and situations are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or historical events, is purely coincidental.

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  Love by Numbers

  - A Reverse Harem Romance Series

  2 Billionaires in Vegas

  3 Bosses’ Assistant

  4 Ranchers’ Bride

  5 Mafia Captors’ Virgin

  6 Single Dads’ Nanny

  7 Groomsmen from Hell

  8 Brothers’ Fiancee

  …to be continued

  Contents

  1. Alexa

  2. Harley

  3. Huxley

  4. Alexa

  5. Jett

  6. Alexa

  7. Alexa

  8. Rogan

  9. Alexa

  10. Alexa

  11. Harley

  12. Huxley

  13. Alexa

  14. Harley

  15. Huxley

  16. Alexa

  17. Alexa

  18. Alexa

  19. Alexa

  20. Huxley

  21. Alexa

  22. Alexa

  23. Harley

  24. Alexa

  25. Harley

  Epilogue

  Author’s Note

  Get this for 99 Cents

  Also By Nicole Casey

  About the Author

  Book Description

  The haughty twins and their six brothers knew exactly how to get me.

  Even though I knew them in college,

  I didn’t realize men could change so much.

  The media had shown me their wild side.

  Now that they’re my bosses, I’m seeing something different.

  It was supposed to be nothing more than a job to me, a chance for a scoop.

  I planned to play their game, rob them blind, and take the spoils for myself,

  but this arranged marriage makes me want to help.

  The real question is, if they aren’t the men that I thought they were, then who are they?

  1

  Alexa

  All I was asking for was five more minutes of sleep, but my phone had fallen out of ‘Do Not Disturb’ for the night and was blinging and blonging off the hook. I wasn’t the type of person who had many friends, and my parents were traditionally far more worried with what my brother was doing every second of every day, so I couldn’t figure out for the life of me who was making such a desperate attempt to get a hold of me so early in the morning.

  I kept my eyes closed and just waited for it to settle its incessant chirping. Maybe if I just wished and prayed to the gods of ‘five more minutes of sleep’ they would quell whoever was hunting me down in the interest of me getting a few more winks. My phone stopped screeching out of control, so I snuggled down a little further into my bed, and let the feeling of fading consciousness fall over me. I was nearly back on a beach with Chris Hemsworth when a malady of notifications cried out again.

  “What?” I screamed out loud as though there was anyone else in the room but me.

  I flipped over and grabbed my phone off of the oak nightstand next to me and unlocked it. There were no texts or phone calls at all, just tons and tons of notifications about some major television network that had lost the head anchor of their news channel after allegations of drug abuse. I clicked one of the first notifications and when I saw the face in the thumbnail for the news story, my heart turned to stone.

  “No…”

  A casually dressed journalist on one of those YouTube news channels was standing in front of an obvious green screen with the frozen image of a pair of men situated to his left. My whole body covered in goosebumps at the pair of familiar faces.

  Harley and Huxley Foxx. God spare me any more torture. You took me away from Thor for this?

  “Scandal broke today as Foxx Media fired Felicity Quitte for gross misconduct and abuse of company time and funds to support a hidden drug habit. Owner and C.E.O. Richard Foxx took to social media this morning to say that he is gravely disappointed in Quitte’s actions, but is sure that his boys will be able to find a new anchor quickly. By ‘boys’ he is of course referring to his twin sons Huxley and Harley who run the media company in their father’s stead. We tried to reach out to the young entrepreneurs to see if they have any leads, but was told they would not be commenting on that at this time.”

  I scoffed at my phone as I turned it to silent. I was a journalist myself, and an old mentor of mine had told me that the best journalists always knew the breaking news. As a result I had set all of my social media sites to notify me with any breaking news in the world, and certainly the sudden opening of one of the highest salaried positions in journalism would fall into that category. Interesting it was, interested I was not. I was one of the few people in the world who knew that it was the Foxx twins themselves that probably drove their former anchor to drugs. They were brash, rude, and belittling. I had the prestige “honor” of going to college with them and sharing several courses, and what little interaction I had with them was too much.

  It wasn’t just that they were unpleasant people, but there was a rumor circling the school that the Foxx brothers shared women. Several people had seen them go into a room together with just one woman, and had even seen them both out on dates with the same one woman. They never seemed to have an issue with one another, though. Arrogant and weird sexual traits? They were trouble with a capital ‘T,’ and I could only imagine it’d gotten worse with age. When I left college, I was more than happy to never see the Foxx twins again.

  “God protect whichever poor sap ends up with that gig,” I murmured, setting my phone back down on the table.

  Realizing I probably wasn’t going to be getting anymore sleep for the day, I flipped off my covers and climbed out of bed. I trudged into my kitchen and tried to decide what to make myself for breakfast. I was still half asleep. I’d only just gotten back from the UK late the night before after running an independent exposé on the recent upset to the royal family in England. I didn’t work for any company in particular. Instead, I’d made a name for myself as an independent journalist and different news companies would pay me for my stories. It wasn’t the best way to make money in the field, and could be inconsistent, but it put food on the table and I got to travel the world at my leisure. Just like in school, I’d staunchly avoided the Foxx’s network, not that they’d be interested even if I hadn’t.

  Still. It probably wouldn’t be the worst idea to start thinking about getting a permanent job. I had plenty of experience and it wouldn’t be bad to settle myself a little bit. I didn’t want to completely hang up traveling the world, but my apartment was still mostly bare because I never spent much time here, and when I was home, I didn’t really have many friends who wanted to meet up with me because I was never around. I might like to seriously invest in a home and some
good relationships—it would be good for me.

  Not that I was planning on working for the Foxx’s in any shape, form, or fashion. I’d rather keep travelling, have walls as white as an asylum, and never have any friends at all before I’d do that. Huxley and Harley weren’t even the only Foxx brothers in existence. The twins had 6 adopted brothers, each one of them as miserable as the next one over. The Foxxes stayed in the media. Sex scandals, bar fights, explosive relationships…if it existed, the Foxx brothers had dipped a toe in it. I barely managed to survive dealing with the two Foxxes in college, eight experts in how to make one regret being born, no thank you.

  I made myself a simple breakfast of bacon and eggs and then made my way over to the couch in the living room. I searched for a couple of hours trying to find a news station that didn’t have the Foxx news on it, but I wasn’t having much luck. I typically liked to spend my mornings catching up the news for the day, but all anyone could talk about was speculation about who the Foxx twins were planning to hire. I cared so little that I eventually decided on some really shitty reality TV. It wasn’t my first choice, but it would do until the Foxxes faces were gone.

  I poked my fork in the fluffy eggs I’d prepared and was just about to put them in my mouth when I heard my phone ring. I was fairly certain I’d put it on silent, but it wouldn’t be the first time I believed I’d done something in a sleep induced stupor and hadn’t actually. Whoever it was could wait. I had eggs and some unbelievable dating show to attend to. The phone stopped ringing, but before silence even settled over my apartment, it started to ring again.

  “What the heck?”

  First the incessant social media notifications and now the phone calls? I ignored it once again and waited for it to stop ringing. Quiet called back to me and I let out a sigh of relief, “Thank--

  “Warning. The same phone number has called you three consecutive times, and has activated your emergency contact protocol.”

  “No!” My smart devices were set to auto-answer if I didn’t pick up when someone called me three times in a row. It was in case I found myself in an emergency situation when I couldn’t get to my phone and my mom was trying to call me or something. “Uh, off! Stop! Don’t answer!”

  “Answering.”

  “No!!”

  “Hello?” A woman’s voice filled my apartment. “Miss Storm?”

  I let out a sigh, suddenly wishing for the old rotary phone days when it was possible to ignore someone. “Hello? Who is this?”

  “Is this Miss Storm?”

  “Yes, yes, this is Miss Storm, who is this?” I barked.

  “Miss Storm, my name is Holly Partridge. I’m calling with a job offer for you.”

  I set my untouched breakfast down on the coffee table and muted the television. “Oh. Great. Is this for my Harry/Meghan story?”

  The woman let out a light chuckle. “No, ma’am. I’m not purchasing an exposé, I’d like to offer you a permanent job at our network. We have an opening for an anchor at our news network and my bosses have seen your work and would like to offer you the position.”

  “Wow! That’s amazing. I would be honored. When can I--” I stopped short. A recent opening for an anchor at a news network. That sounded familiar. “You wouldn’t happen to be calling from Foxx, would you?”

  “Yes I am. I assume you’ve seen the headlines then. In any event, when can you--”

  “I don’t want the job.”

  The woman cleared her throat. “I’m sorry?”

  “I don’t want the head anchor job. Find someone else.” I was trying not to be so unprofessional that I blacklisted myself in the industry, but I had absolutely no intentions of working for the Foxxes. “I appreciate the offer, but you can tell your bosses I said no thank you.” There was no response for a long time. I thought that maybe Holly hung up. “Hello? Are you still there?”

  “Come on now, Alexa. That’s really no way to talk to people,” a new voice boomed over the speaker. It was deep and silky smooth; I recognized it instantly.

  “Harley,” I said. “Find someone else.”

  “We don’t want someone else. We want you.”

  I crossed my arms. “So much so that you had your assistant call me.”

  “Holly is our head of Human Resources and this is really more her realm of expertise.”

  “Yet you were clearly on standby.”

  “I know how stubborn you can be. You were the same way in school.” He snickered. “Holly, you can go. I’ll handle this.”

  I didn’t even like the way he said ‘handle’ as though I was some menial task that he had to get off his plate. “There’s nothing to handle. I’m not interested in the position.”

  “We are prepared to offer you $175,000 a year, paid weekly. It comes with full health benefits, including totally covered physical health, mental health, dental health, and eye. We fully fund 401ks and invest in company stocks on your behalf, and we’d lease you a penthouse nearby for easy access to the studio.” My eyes nearly bugged out of my skull. I was glad I was sitting in my living room alone and not in Harley’s office. I’m certain I shattered my poker face. “Alexa?”

  It was a dream salary. I could work my whole life and never come close to making that much. It wasn’t worth sacrificing my dignity though. Not by a long shot. “I’m not interested.” God, I couldn’t imagine admitting to anyone that I turned down a $175,000 salary. “Thank you, but find someone else.”

  “Alexa.” I hung up the phone before he could get another word out.

  I splayed out across my couch and stared at my ceiling. “That wasn’t a funny joke, God. You owe me one.”

  Maybe travelling the world and not having roots down in America was the best choice after all...

  2

  Harley

  I stared at my phone, now singing nothing back to me but a dead dial tone. To spit in the face of a damn near a fifth of a million dollars took some resolve. I laughed just thinking about it. Well, I knew it wasn’t going to be easy convincing Alexa to come work for us. Having Holly call and make her the traditional offer was really just the first wave of my line of attacks. I stood up from behind my desk, grabbed my phone, and made my way out of my office. Holly was standing just outside, her red hair tied up in a bun on top of her head.

  “I’m really sorry, Mr. Foxx.”

  I tapped her on the shoulder. “Don’t be. I knew this would be a slippery fish.”

  “Should I pull another file?” she asked.

  “No. Alexa Storm is the one I want.” I started to walk down the hallway and Holly trailed behind me.

  “But sir, she very clearly said that she isn’t interested in the position.”

  “I’m aware of what she said, Holly. I’ve known Alexa for many years, and I know that she’s a rare bird.” In truth my brother and I had wanted Alexa in the position ever since the day we took over. Thankfully that other, poor excuse for an anchor jumped in a lake and gave us an excuse to go after it. “I’m going to consult with Huxley and figure out what we’re going to do next. I’ll keep you posted. You can go back to your office for now.”

  Holly nodded. “Yes sir.” She flitted away without another word.

  I travelled the hallways of Foxx tower until I was entering my twin brother, Huxley’s, office. He was sitting behind his desk, reclined back in his chair, with his black boots up on the desk. He was way too casually dressed for work, in a t-shirt and jeans, compared to my full suit. Ignoring that, we were identical twins in every sense of the word, with the only thing distinguishing us being the tribal, barbed wire tattoo that he had on his left bicep, where I had a matching tattoo on my right one. Apart from that, we had the same wide shoulders, the same amber eyes, and the same short brown hair. Where he chose to allow his to just stick straight up in more of a spiked fashion, I typically combed mine back. Eagle eyed onlookers could tell the difference between us at a single glance, but the rest of the world was doomed to mistake us for one another often.

  Hux
ley was flipping through a magazine with a slender, well-endowed blonde on the cover with only her intentionally placed arms covering her intimate parts. Despite looking at a dirty magazine, he was looking at it like it was no more interesting than a magazine about paint drying. He looked completely bored.

  I walked over to him and ripped the magazine from his hands and threw it down on the desk. “She said no.”

  An evil smile skated across Huxley’s face. “Oh, I was hoping you would say that.”

  The other thing that distinguished my brother and I was his total penchant for immaturity. Any chance that he got to be annoying or childish, he took excitedly. It was the one thing about him that made me wish people didn’t confuse him for me. I watched as Huxley opened up his computer and aggressively started typing. If only Alexa knew that it was probably in her best interest to accept my very formal and professional job offer. Now she’d have to fall under whatever Huxley had in mind.

  “What are you going to do?” I asked.

  Huxley waved a hand through the air, not looking up from his computer. “Don’t worry about it. I’m on it.”

  I sighed. As much as I wanted to sit and babysit his antics, I had no shortage of things to do for the day. “Fine. Just get it done.”