Second Chance Divorcing My Lethal Wife

I came home to find my pregnant wife wearing next to nothing, wrapped around another man. She claimed she was just shooting private maternity boudoir photos. Then she used the unborn baby to extort money from me. I tried to stop her out of genuine concern, warning her that intimate photos like that could easily leak online. Instead of listening, she mocked me, calling me an insecure, backward loser. She swore that if I didn't let her do it, she would abort the baby. Desperate, I turned to my father-in-law for help. He was furious and gave her a harsh wake-up call, threatening to cut ties with her completely if she ever pulled a stunt like that again. Only then did she back down. I thought the nightmare was over. But she harbored a quiet, burning hatred. One night while I was fast asleep, she stabbed me dozens of times. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day she planned to take those photos. The moment I pushed open the front door, I froze. My wife, Vanessa, was lounging seductively on the couch wearing nothing but lace lingerie, proudly showing off her swollen belly. In front of her, a strange man had his hand on her bare thigh, slowly trailing his fingers upward. Rage exploded in my chest. I lunged forward, kicked the man away, and slapped Vanessa hard across the face. "You're cheating on me in our own home?!" Her cheek flared bright red. It took her a few seconds to process what happened before fury twisted her features. "Are you out of your damn mind?! He's the photographer I hired for my maternity shoot!" "Today was just a test shoot!" Of course I knew. I had just been reborn. In my previous life, she demanded money from me for an explicit boudoir photoshoot. The photographer she brought home was clearly crossing boundaries. Terrified those private pictures would end up leaked online and ruin her life, I firmly refused. Vanessa hadn't cared in the slightest. "They're just photos! What could possibly happen? Can you stop being such a backward prude? This is what happens when someone drops out of college—you have zero worldview!" Vanessa had a master's degree. I, on the other hand, had been forced to drop out of college due to family hardship, leaving me with only a high school diploma. Our friends always said I struck gold when I landed her. Throughout our marriage, I catered to her every whim. When she didn't want to work, I took on side hustles on top of my day job to support her luxurious lifestyle. When she said she wasn't ready for kids, I used protection for five straight years. I thought she had finally come around when she got pregnant. Yet just a few months in, she brought another man into our living room. And she still tried to weaponize the baby against me. "Are you going to give me the money or not? If you don't, I'm going straight to the clinic to get an abortion!" "The thought of having a kid with a pathetic loser like you makes me sick anyway!" Helpless, I had gone to her father, Raymond. Raymond was an old-fashioned, strict man. When he found out, he rushed over and struck her across the face. "If you dare take those shameless photos, don't you ever call me your father again!" Only then did Vanessa drop it. Afterward, I gave her spending money to go on a weekend getaway with her friends, thinking I had smoothed things over. Instead, the night she returned, she took a kitchen knife and drove it deep into my abdomen while I slept. The sheer agony jolted me awake, but my limbs were paralyzed with weakness. I couldn't fight back. I could only watch in horror as she pulled the blade out, over and over, driving it into my flesh again and again. Blood gushed from my stomach. The gentle, delicate face I once loved was twisted into something demonic. "It's all your fault! You stopped my shoot and turned my dad against me! Go to hell—!" The phantom burn of those fatal stab wounds still lingered in my gut. But right now, right in front of me, was Vanessa's scowling face. "Look what you did, you freak! You scared the photographer away!" "Transfer me three thousand dollars right now! He's almost impossible to book! If we don't pay his deposit, we'll lose the slot!" I took several deep breaths, fighting down the suffocating terror of my previous death. Looking at the arrogant woman before me, I feigned hesitation. "Isn't taking pictures like that risky?" "If your dad finds out, he's going to flip..." "Maybe we should ask him first?" I pulled out my phone, pretending to dial Raymond's number. Panic flashed across Vanessa's face. "Don't you dare call him! Fine, forget it! Do you always have to use my dad to threaten me?!" Seeing her back down, I pocketed my phone. She looked like she had conceded, but I knew her too well. She would never give up that easily. Sure enough, the very next morning, not long after I left for work, she packed her bag and slipped into a cab. I watched from across the street. I didn't stop her. In this life, as long as it wasn't my money she was burning, she could shoot whatever trash she wanted. A few hours later, my phone rang. It was the hospital. The nurse said Vanessa was having severe pregnancy complications and had nearly suffered a miscarriage. They told me to come immediately. When I rushed into the ward, the doctor immediately chewed me out. "I know she's five months along, but she is still pregnant!" "You two need to be careful in the bedroom! Her cervix is already irritated. If your sex life is that rough again, you're going to lose the baby!"