Chapter 1

I am the matriarch of Marquis Valebrook Manor, a woman who lives with unyielding pride and has never once bowed her head to a concubine.

When I open my eyes again, I've become the neglected wife in a modern wealthy family, driven into depression by my scumbag husband and his mistress.

When I expose their sordid affair, my scum of a husband, Joseph Cooke, sues me for "invasion of privacy".

The judge orders me to issue a public apology for 15 days, and the entire internet eagerly waits to watch me become a laughingstock.

Joseph smirks. "Apologize or spend the rest of your life behind bars!"

The mistress, Naomi Baxter, sneers in provocation. "Times have changed, Brenda. In today's world, the husband's neglect makes you the third wheel."

I leisurely straighten my couture gown, then turn toward the livestream camera watched by millions, revealing the flawless smile of a noble household's matriarch.

"Don't worry. Of course I will apologize."

They think they can force me to bow my head?

I am afraid the word "surrender" does not exist in my dictionary.

Chapter 1

"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.

Chapter 2

First thing the next morning, Joseph canceled my supplementary cards, trying to force my hand.

I turned right around and had the maid, Leah Holmes, sell off all my luxury goods.

Two hours later, 500 thousand dollars in cash landed in my savings account.

I changed into a sharp black business suit and put on a fierce, striking face of makeup.

"Leah, order a banner and hire a band."

At noon, right at the peak of lunch hour at Cooke Group, a huge truck pulled up in front of the entrance.

On my mark, the deafening beat of drums and the blare of trumpets filled the air.

Crowds of employees and passersby flooded over.

Standing on top of the truck bed, I gave a wave of my hand.

A massive banner with gold letters on a red background unrolled instantly. "Congratulations to Mr. Joseph Cooke on His Second Wife, Expanding the Cooke Family! Blessings From His Legal Wife, Brenda Hudson!"

When Joseph sprinted out of the lobby, he had lost a shoe along the way.

"Brenda! Get the hell down here! Do you not have any shame?"

I grabbed a megaphone, my voice ringing loud and clear across the entire plaza. "Oh, Mr. Cooke, don't be so shy. We are husband and wife. Now that you've taken a concubine, as your wife, I couldn't be happier! I came specifically to celebrate your joyous occasion!"

Laughter erupted through the crowd, and countless phones were whipped out to record us.

Shaking with rage, Joseph roared at the security guards beside him, "What are you waiting for? Drag this lunatic down! Tear that banner down!"

The guards exchanged hesitant glances.

I let out a cold laugh, pulled a stack of 100-dollar bills from my bag, and tossed them into the air. "No one moves! Today is Mr. Cooke's big day! Everyone gets a piece!"

Green bills scattered like rain. The guards and spectators instantly broke into a frenzy, scrambling for the cash. Nobody cared about Joseph's orders anymore.

Seeing the mayhem, Joseph tried to climb onto the truck himself to grab me.

The moment his fingers gripped the side rail, I seized the opening and slammed the heel of my stilettos onto the back of his hand.

"Ah!" With an agonized shriek, Joseph tipped backward and fell right into the head security guard's arms.

I elegantly set the megaphone aside and waved at the phones below. "Look at Mr. Cooke, so overcome with joy that his legs went soft! When you come home tonight, remember to have your concubine greet me."

With that, I slid back into the truck and drove off.

By the time I got home, the top trending hashtag was #RichWifeLosesHerMind.

Naomi hadn't been idle, either.

She had posted a long, tear-jerking essay on Instagram. The accompanying photo showed her pitiful face alongside a faint bruise on her wrist.

"Perhaps love came a little late for us, but my conscience is clear. Brenda, if you truly hate me, come at me. Why hurt Joseph? Why humiliate him in front of the entire company? If my departure can bring peace to this home, I am willing to leave with my baby…"

The comments section was a complete sewer.

"Is this wife out of her mind? If he doesn't love you, just let go. Why make such an ugly scene?"

"Total psycho. No wonder Mr. Cooke looked elsewhere."

"Poor Naomi. You're pregnant and have to endure this? This outdated, feudal nonsense needs to go!"

Outdated, feudal nonsense?

Looking at those words, I let out a dry laugh.

If this were actually my time, a mistress like her would have been beaten to death and tossed into the street.

Online harassment hit like a tidal wave, and my inbox filled with foul, vile insults.

Someone even leaked my phone number. Calls flooded in one after another.

The moment I answered, someone began screaming obscenities, and the second I hung up, the phone rang again.

I simply turned off the phone, sat in the rosewood chair in my study, and closed my eyes to rest.

Leah brought in a cup of tea, her hands trembling. "Mrs. Cooke… people are throwing rotten eggs at the gate, and others are splashing red paint…"

"Let them be," I said without opening my eyes. "The bigger the scene they make now, the more they'll pay me later."

Chapter 3

Relying on my memories, I booted up the computer in Joseph's study and began combing through the accounts.

Though Joseph had grown the business, he was never particularly savvy when it came to finances.

Or rather, he simply hadn't bothered to guard against his formerly sweet, naive wife.

The transaction records were appalling.

He had bought Naomi houses, cars, and designer bags. Even her daily personal expenses had been billed directly to the company.

I logged every single entry, calculating how many years behind bars this would buy him.

As the cursor drifted across the screen, I accidentally opened a private album of photos of him and Naomi.

The repulsive images of the cheating pair made my stomach turn.

So, I generously uploaded them to the internet for everyone to enjoy.

If they truly loved each other, why hide it in the shadows?

To my surprise, the police showed up at my door soon after. "Under the law, even spouses cannot violate each other's right to privacy. By sharing their private photos online without their consent, you've violated the law."

Listening to these ridiculous legal terms, I found it absurdly hilarious.

A legal wife exposing an affair was the natural order of things. How had it become a crime in this modern age?

Was the law protecting privacy or was it protecting shamelessness?

"I want to see my lawyer," I said coldly.

Unfortunately, my attorney, Albert Huff, was a greenhorn fresh out of law school, assigned by legal aid.

Joseph had already pulled every string in the city. No reputable firm in Selmont dared to take my case.

Three days later, the court summons arrived.

Joseph officially sued me for violating his privacy and defaming him, demanding 500 thousand dollars in damages and a public apology online.

In the courtroom, Joseph's lawyer spoke with eloquent grandiosity. He listed my series of atrocities, from pulling up to the company with a banner to leaking private photos online.

In his narrative, I became a twisted, vengeful madwoman driven insane by unrequited love.

Meanwhile, Naomi sat in the witness stand, her barely noticeable baby bump showing beneath her clothes as she cried her eyes out. "I really didn't mean to destroy Brenda's marriage… I just loved Joseph… She threatened me, saying she would kill my baby…"

A wave of sympathetic murmurs rippled through the gallery.

Albert tried to counter, protesting, "The plaintiff was the one who engaged in an extramarital affair first—"

"Objection!" The opposing attorney cut in immediately. "Mr. Huff, this case concerns violation of privacy and defamation, which are irrelevant to marital fidelity. Even if my client made a mistake, it does not give the defendant license to commit cyberbullying!"

The judge banged his gavel. "Objection sustained."

Sitting in the defendant's seat, I remained eerily calm, watching the shameless couple put on their little performance.

Indeed, logic was useless when the very rules were rigged.

Joseph's infidelity was a moral issue, while my exposure of him was a legal one.

During the recess, I bumped into Joseph in the hallway. "Brenda, for the sake of our marriage, if you get on your knees, admit your mistake, and sign the divorce papers right now, I'll drop the charges."

He leaned in, sneering softly, "That ancient matriarch act of yours doesn't work in the modern world. I have money, I have lawyers, and I have public opinion. What do you have to fight me with?"

Looking at his revolting face, I burst out laughing. "Joseph, you really think you've won?"

"Haven't I?" he scoffed.

I said nothing, only giving him one long, quiet look.

When court reconvened, the tide remained entirely against me, just as expected.

Albert was left utterly speechless by the defense, and every piece of evidence seemed to be stacked against me.

In everyone's eyes, I had already lost this battle.

Back home, I opened the bottommost compartment of the safe and pulled out a thick diary.

Chapter 4

It was the only thing of real value the original Brenda had left behind.

For five years, she had meticulously documented every night Joseph failed to come home, every time he returned smelling of perfume, and every unexplained charge on his credit card.

There were even the taunting messages Naomi had sent her—every insult and every attempt to force her way into the marriage.

Originally, these were merely the desperate ramblings of a bitter woman.

In my hands, however, they would become the sharpest of blades.

My phone chimed with a text from Naomi.

"Brenda, the ruling is tomorrow. The court is definitely going to rule against you. By then, you won't just be out of money, but you'll also have to post a public apology online and lose every bit of dignity you have left. If I were you, I'd just go kill myself."

As I stared at the screen, my fingers tapped rhythmically against the desk.

A public apology online?

Wonderful.

I was just in need of an officially certified microphone.

On the day of the verdict, a light rain was falling over Selmont.

The courtroom was packed to capacity, everyone eager to witness the fall of the notorious rich wife.

"The defendant, Brenda Hudson, is found to have infringed upon the plaintiffs' privacy and defamed them. The evidence is conclusive. The court orders the defendant to pay one dollar in damages for emotional distress to the plaintiffs and to post a public apology at the public‑facing media outlets for no less than 15 days."

Joseph stood up, straightened his suit, and wore the triumphant smile of a winner.

Naomi clung to his arm, unable to hide the smug satisfaction on her face.

I listened to the verdict expressionlessly, waived my right to appeal, and signed the papers directly.

As I walked out of the courthouse, a barrage of cameras and microphones were shoved into my face.

"Ms. Hudson, what are your thoughts on the verdict?"

"Will you fulfill your obligation to apologize?"

"Netizens are saying you brought this on yourself. Do you regret it?"

Cold rain struck my face.

I stopped in my tracks and looked straight into the countless cameras without flinching. "I have no objections. I will apologize sincerely."

With that, I pushed past the reporters and got into my car.

Joseph's call came right after. "Brenda, I want to see your live apology tonight at 8:00 pm. If you try to play any tricks, I'll have the court enforce the judgment and destroy your credit. You won't even be able to take a train or a flight!"

"Don't worry," I replied smoothly while looking at the streets rushing past outside the window. "I'll go live at 8:00 pm."

Back home, I popped open a bottle of red wine for myself.

Did Joseph think he was the only one who knew how to exploit legal loopholes?

I went into the walk-in closet and picked out a striking red evening dress.

Sitting before the vanity, I slowly shaped my brows into graceful arches like distant mountains and painted my lips a vivid crimson.

This was the kind of grand attire an ancient matriarch wore when meeting the emperor to accept a noble title.

If this was going to be a grand show, the lead actress ought to look the part.

At 7:55 pm, the live stream announcement went out, and within moments, more than 100 thousand people had signed up to watch.

The entire internet was waiting to see how this once-arrogant wife would bow her head, admit guilt, and endure humiliation before millions of viewers.

I set up my broadcasting equipment and adjusted the lighting.

On the table in front of me lay that thick diary, alongside a massive stack of printed bank statements and chat log screenshots.

The clock struck 8:00 pm.

Joseph and Naomi were probably popping champagne right now, glued to the screen, ready to watch me make a fool of myself.

I looked into the camera and offered the impeccable smile of a noble household's matriarch. "Hello, everyone. I'm Brenda Hudson. The court ordered me to apologize, so not only will I apologize, but I will also do so in meticulous detail, complete with photos and evidence. Mr. Cooke, Ms. Baxter, are you ready?"

The number of viewers on the live stream instantly surged past 500 thousand.

The chat flooded with frantic comments.

I picked up the first document and cleared my throat, my gaze sharpening like a blade.

"I'm sorry, honey. I should not have exposed what you did in Room 302 of Hiltonia Hotel at 2:00 pm on March 4th, 2021.

"That day, you and Ms. Baxter stayed in that room for a total of 15 minutes. Excluding the time you spent showering and getting dressed, I shouldn't have mentioned the fact that you only lasted three minutes. It was a severe violation of your privacy and a terrible blow to your pride as a man."

Chapter 5

As I held the printed hotel check-in record in my hand, I spoke articulately, my tone measured and overflowing with absolute sincerity.

In an instant, the chat blew up.

The screen flooded with question marks, followed immediately by an avalanche of laughter.

"Three minutes? For real?"

"Holy crap, this is wild! What an apology!"

"This isn't an apology. This is a public execution!"

Before the viewers could react, I pulled up another screenshot—an Instagram post in which Naomi had flaunted her Hermès bag.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Baxter. I shouldn't have questioned the authenticity of your bag. Even though my husband bought that top-tier knockoff for 20 thousand dollars using company funds, his love for you is real.

"I shouldn't have been jealous of your romance, and I certainly shouldn't have pointed out that using corporate funds to buy fake luxury goods is not only potential embezzlement but also embarrassing."

The moment those words left my mouth, half of the netizens who had been calling me outdated flipped instantly.

"Holy hell! The richest man in the city buys counterfeit bags for his mistress? And with company funds?"

"The real kicker is spending 20 grand on a fake! This guy is so easy to fleece!"

"Embezzlement? That could land him in prison!"

I kept flipping through the thick diary in my hands. Every page brought another explosive revelation.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that Ms. Baxter got pregnant because you didn't want to buy protection, Mr. Cooke. That is your private affair, and as an outsider, I shouldn't have chimed in.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have leaked the transfer records showing that you bought a sports car for Ms. Baxter's brother. Even though you misappropriated construction funds and brought the project to a halt for two weeks, I should have been more understanding of your desire to win over your future brother-in-law."

I spoke neither too fast nor too slow, carrying myself with the poise and authority of an ancient matriarch disciplining an erring concubine.

Every single word landed like a blade, cutting straight to the bone while leaving no room for complaint.

After all, I was strictly following the court order, laying out the exact facts of how I had violated their privacy.

By now, Joseph's phone was probably ringing off the hook.

I watched the live viewer count surge past three million, and it was still climbing.

The platform didn't dare ban my stream because I had the written court order. I was simply fulfilling my legal obligations.

On the other side of the screen, Joseph had indeed lost his mind.

As he sat at home with Naomi watching my live stream, his face was as pale as a ghost.

"Hurry! Call the platform! Shut her down! Now!" Joseph roared, throwing his wine glass straight at the TV displaying the stream.

Naomi was trembling uncontrollably. Once the truth about the fake bag got out, she would never be able to show her face in high society again.

However, I didn't stop.

For half an hour, I issued a total of 20 apologies. Every single one was backed by hard, undeniable evidence.

The top trending hashtag, once #BrendaApologizes, was replaced by #BrendaJudgesTheScumbag, #JosephThreeMinutes, and #RichFamilyFakeBag.

Finally, I closed the folder and offered the camera another flawless, elegant smile. "To demonstrate my deep respect for the law and my apologies to you both, I will conduct this apology live stream for 15 consecutive days.

"Today is only day one. At the same time tomorrow, I will continue to expose… Oh, excuse me, to apologize to the two of you. I deeply regret my part in the company's tax violations as well. Tomorrow, I will offer a detailed reflection."

With that, I ignored the flood of comments begging me to stay and ended the live stream.

Looking at the massive amount of tips piling up on the account dashboard, I poured myself a glass of red wine and took a light sip.

The wine was smooth and sweet as it hit my throat.

"First round, absolute victory."