Court-Ordered Apology: Real Wife's Kill Shot

"Brenda Hudson, how long are you going to keep playing dead? Get up and make room for Naomi! She's done so much for this company, and she's carrying my baby. Moving into the master bedroom is just for her and the baby's health!"

My eyes snapped open.

A man and a woman stood before me.

The man was dressed in a sharp suit, his face contorted with anger as he pointed a finger at my nose.

The woman wore a white floral dress and hid behind him, cradling her belly. Her expression was smug, though she faked a timid tone. "Joseph, don't do this. Brenda will get angry. I'll just stay in the guest room."

Memories rushed into my mind like a surging tide.

It turned out that my former self, the matriarch who had ruled over a marquis' household for 30 years, had passed away in her sleep.

My soul now inhabited the body of Joseph Cooke's wife, the wife of the richest man in Selmont.

Though she was also named Brenda Hudson, she had been a spineless pushover.

She had built the business with Joseph from nothing, only to be sidelined once he made it big. Now, she was forced to endure a mistress moving into her home and shoving her out of her own bedroom.

The original Brenda had died of anger on this very rainy night.

I sat up slowly and cast a cold glare at the shameless pair.

Back in the marquis' household, a man who favored a concubine over his wife would have his legs broken, and a woman like this would be sold off to a brothel.

But this was the modern era.

My new memories reminded me that killing was illegal here.

I smiled as I pushed back the covers and got out of bed. After straightening my rumpled nightgown, I walked over to Naomi Baxter.

She flinched instinctively.

Joseph immediately stepped in front of her and stared at me with suspicion. "What are you trying to do? Don't you dare lay a finger on her!"

Ignoring him, I looked Naomi up and down before speaking calmly. "Since she's pregnant, we might as well take her in as your concubine."

The air in the room froze.

Joseph's eyes widened. "W-what did you just say?"

Naomi forgot her delicate act. Her jaw dropped as she gaped at me.

Paying no mind to their shock, I turned toward the nightstand and opened the drawer.

Pulling out a thousand dollars, I looked at the two maids by the door. "Clear my things out of the master bedroom and make room for…"

I gestured toward Naomi. "…the concubine. Hurry it up, and this money is yours."

The maids' eyes lit up. Ignoring Joseph's dark expression, they dropped to their knees. "Thank you, Mrs. Cooke!"

Joseph finally snapped out of his daze and bellowed in rage, "Brenda Hudson! Have you lost your mind? What concubine? Naomi is my true love!"

I took a seat in an armchair, maintaining a flawless posture and an icy demeanor. "Under my roof, there are only lawful wives and concubines. If you're so fond of this creature, I shall accommodate you.

"However, rules are rules. She will come by every morning and evening to pay her respects. If she bears any child, they shall be raised under my name."

"You're out of your mind!" Joseph spat. Grabbing Naomi, he turned toward the door.

"Ignore this lunatic. Tomorrow, I'm filing the divorce paperwork to kick her out with nothing to her name!"

As I watched them flee, the smile vanished from my face.

A divorce?

In his dreams.

I had spent 30 years managing a marquis' household, dealing with more concubines than I could ever count.

In this life, not only would I keep my place as the rightful wife, but I would also make their lives a living hell.