All Chapters of Built Like Karma: The Plus Size Girl's Guide to Comeuppance : Chapter 131 - Chapter 140

Talia’s POVMonday morning, 6:15 a.m.A sharp, slicing pain tears through my stomach, and my eyes fly open.“Fuck.”I barely make it out of bed before I’m sprinting to the bathroom. I don’t even get the chance to lift the toilet seat lid before the vomit erupts out of me, splattering against the wall behind the toilet.Perfect.Absolutely fucking perfect.I gag, curse, fumble with the lid, and finally aim the rest of it where it belongs. My body convulses like it’s punishing me for existing, and when it finally stops, I’m left kneeling on the cold tile, breathing hard.“This baby is a fucking nightmare,” I mutter.A real one.Too bad I can’t just… handle it the way I handled the others, but this one? This one has a purpose, and besides, I do want children one day.Just not like this and definitely not by Tony.I rinse my mouth, splash water on my face, brush my teeth, and stare at my reflection which is pale, annoyed, but still flawless, even while miserable.I walk back into my bedro

Talia’s POVTuesday MorningI wake up to my phone buzzing on the nightstand.Not the gentle kind either.The angry, persistent vibration that makes your stomach tighten before your brain even catches up.I groan, roll onto my side, and grab it without opening my eyes.Bank Alert.My eyes snap open.“What the hell…?”I squint at the screen, thumb already moving as I unlock my phone.Account Status: Frozen.Reason: Under Review.I sit straight up in bed.“No. No, no, no, what in the fuck?”I open the banking app so fast my fingers almost trip over themselves. I refresh. Then refresh again. The screen doesn’t change.Frozen.Unavailable.Transactions disabled.My chest tightens.“This is a business account,” I mutter to myself. “Not my personal one.”Then, relief hits, sharp and brief.Good.I already moved some money over.I exhale slowly, forcing myself not to panic as I hit Call Bank.“Thank you for calling US Bankers ”“Hi,” I cut in sharply, already irritated. “My name is Talia Todd

Jalen’s POVBy the time Friday starts dragging its feet toward the end of the day, I find myself smiling for no real reason at all. One of those quiet, private smiles, you know the kind you don’t mean to show, but it slips out anyway. Soon, I’ll be divorced. Soon, Talia will be out of my life for good, and all I could say was good riddens. I lean back in my chair, and stare up at the ceiling, and mutter, “Thank you, God.”For once, something actually feels like it’s going right.Not perfect, no never perfect, but much better.We’re still dealing with the fallout of someone siphoning millions from the company. Fifteen million is the number we’ve been saying out loud, the one we’re letting the attorneys and accountants wrestle with, but deep down, I don’t believe that’s the real number. Not with Talia. Not with her habits, her access, her entitlement. Fifteen feels like the appetizer, not the main course.Our vendors are nervous, because their payments are delayed, phones are ringing n

Talia’s POVI wake up Saturday morning feeling smug as hell.I damn sure relieved, and grateful, because when those accounts were frozen, I panicked, but I moved that money in time. I made sure I wasn’t left broke, stupid, or cornered. I sigh, rolling out of bed, padding into my bathroom like everything is still mine.Because it should be.Amy’s gone. That fucking traitor. That fake ass loyal bitch who wanted to act like she wasn’t enjoying every damn benefit that came with being in my orbit. I already put out an ad for a new assistant, this time, strictly business. She will have no personal access and definitely no emotional entitlement. Boundaries will be in place.Something Amy clearly couldn’t handle.I take care of my business in the bathroom, shower fast and scrub hard like I can wash the anxiety off my skin. I fix my hair, brush my teeth, do my makeup with precision, no shaking hands, and no smudges. By the time I slide back into my silk robe, I look like myself again.Contro

Jalen’s POVI move through the backyard slowly, deliberately, the way you do when you’re trying to take everything in without letting the weight of it all settle too heavy on your chest.Laughter hums through the air, the DJ’s low music blending with conversation and clinking glasses, and everywhere I look there are faces I know from family, friends, coworkers, people who’ve watched Patrick grow up and now want to celebrate the life he and Amara are bringing into the world.And then I see her.Aria stands near one of the tables, sunlight catching her just right, like the day itself decided to be gentle with her. She looks…good. Glowy. Steady. No mad dash to the bathroom, no hand pressed to her mouth, no pale strain around her eyes. That alone eases something in my chest. She hasn’t thrown up today, which, selfishly, I count as a small victory. I know she’s still careful, still sticking to what her stomach can tolerate, and I don’t blame her. When she gets sick, it’s not delicate. It’