YOKED TO A BILLIONAIRE BY VENNEH LISAH

Before Violla could even get out of bed to remove the bathrobe from Davon's body, he had already vanished from the room.

She attempted to sit up and call out his name, but a maid closed the door behind him.

Violla slumped back onto the bed in disappointment. "I suppose I'll take this time to rest and recover for now. Everything else can wait."

Davon returned to his own room, a smirk on his face as his lips curved into a captivating smile.

"She's incredibly adorable when she's acting foolish," he thought.

That night, Violla struggled to fall asleep, although her restlessness had nothing to do with her physical pain. Her mind raced as she pondered about the chip and Davon, even though the two matters were unrelated. Nevertheless, both deeply troubled her.

"When will I manage to extricate myself from this mess?" Was her final thought before drifting off to sleep.

The following morning, Violla abruptly woke up to the sound of her phone ringing. It was her kids calling, and she quickly reassured them before ending the call.

The last thing she wanted was for anyone else to discover her children's existence. Revealing them could spell disaster for her, given the number of enemies the Milan Corporation had before its downfall.

A few minutes later, Immaculate and her assistant entered to change Violla's bandages, followed shortly by Davon, who appeared godlike in his black suit bathed in morning sunlight. Immaculate and her assistant promptly hurried away. Davon approached Violla and leaned in, planting a kiss on her forehead.

His phone began to ring, and he glanced between it and Violla. After a moment's consideration, he chose to answer the call and left without uttering a word to her.

As he reached the door, Davon cast a final glance at Violla, who locked eyes with him. His composure sharply contrasted with her anxious gaze.

Just seconds later, Davon departed in a hurry, but Violla followed him with her eyes, desperately trying to determine if he was the person she had been with four years ago.

"He doesn't strike me as someone who would willingly become those sugar mommies' lapdog…" her train of thought was abruptly interrupted.

"Miss Milan, I'm going to change your bandages. It might hurt a little, so be prepared," Immaculate said in a tender tone.

"Sure, go ahead," Violla replied. She didn't think much about the process until Immaculate began to peel the bandages off her neck. The pain was so immense that she started screaming her head off. "Ouch! It hurts!"

Davon, who had been descending the spiral staircase, froze when he heard her screams. "Tell the doctor to be gentle!" he ordered.

"Yes, Mr. Roman," a maid said before scurrying off to Violla's room.

Immaculate and Violla heard his voice too, and Immaculate bowed her head apologetically. "I'm so sorry, Miss Milan."

"It's fine," she said.

"Haha! He definitely has a crush on me!" Violla told herself.

Violla had always dreamt of a paradise where she could spend her days doing nothing but enjoying herself, but she had her three kids to take care of. What she didn't expect was for her dream to come true so quickly.

She loved the feeling of being pampered by a doctor and the maids, and the fact that the maids in Davon's house were professional and well-trained made her experience even better.

Violla looked out the window and sighed happily. "It's so bright and sunny today!"

Without wasting a single second, the maids helped her into a wheelchair and took her out for a morning walk.

Violla admired the exterior of the villa as the maids pushed her around the garden. Even though it had a predominantly bland color palette and was designed to be minimalistic, every detail was carefully thought out and well-executed.

In fact, the furniture in the house was all limited edition designs produced by famous designers that could fetch a few million if sold at an auction.

As the daughter of the former richest man in the City, she was used to seeing grand and lavish items, but Davon's home was on a totally different level.

In fact, the front garden of Davon's home made her jaw drop in shock. "This looks like something I could find in a royal residence!" she considered.

She thought back to Franklin's words. "You don't seem to understand Mr. Roman's true worth...."

Violla picked up her phone and did a simple online search for Davon, and she was surprised to find no information on him anywhere on the internet, but his family, the Romans, were. According to the information there, they were the most powerful in the East, West, South, and North Nations.

There was no telling their true worth, and there was no telling just how many companies they owned in total, but the Roman family had risen to be the second richest family in the world. No wonder the Stanleys wanted to establish ties with them!

Violla's phone rang. It was a call from Mrs. Blake, and she picked it up immediately. "Hi, Mrs. Blake."

"Miss, we have a guest," Mrs. Blake said, sounding nervous.

"Guest?" Violla asked, confused. Since when did anyone bother to visit us?

"I'll talk to her…" another voice interrupted. "Violla! It's me, Aunt Amira!"

"Aunt Amira?" Violla said, her heart sinking into her stomach. Amira was her cousin Leila's mother, and she was the last person Violla expected to appear at her house.

"Violla, Leila told me that you're back, so I came to visit you and the kids. Your uncle misses you, you know…"

"Aunt Amira," Violla said, cutting her off. "I'm not at home. Do you need help with anything?" Violla never liked Amira, for money and power were all she cared about.

Her uncle married into the Amira family years ago and cut off contact with the Milan family after that.

When the Milan family rose to the top, her uncle practically begged Violla's father, Gerald, to spare him a position in Milan Corporation, to which the latter agreed out of brotherly love.

Her uncle and her family treated Gerald and Violla well, but everything changed after the fall of Milan Corporation and Gerald's death. Her uncle and his family did not even bother to attend Gerald's funeral, and Violla lost contact with them shortly after.

After a while, she heard that her uncle started a company and lived a comfortable life. There were rumors that her uncle had been living off Milan Corporation and the Stanleys' coattails, but none of that mattered to Violla. All she wanted was a peaceful life away from him and his wretched family.

That was why Amira's visit came as a total surprise to her.

"I'm just here to visit you and the kids," Amira said with a fake smile. "Your uncle prepared a feast back home. Besides, aren't they classmates with Titus? They can have a playdate too!"

"There's no need," Violla said, only to be interrupted by Amira.

"Hey, it's fine! We're family after all," Amira said with a chuckle. "The shareholders from our group miss you, you know? They used to be part of Milan Corporation…" Violla loathed every word, but she forced herself to let Amira finish.

"Oh, by the way, the media seems pretty interested in your whereabouts," Amira said.

So she's been beating around the bush the whole time.

"The Milan family may have lost its glory, but your popularity hasn't waned a single bit. I'm sure everyone wants to know who the kids' father is, right?"

"What the hell do you want?" Violla growled.

"Tsk, how rude," Amira said, feigning disappointment. "All I ask is that you accept my invitation. Is there anything wrong with reaching out?"

"Just tell me when and where it is. I'll be there on time."

Violla knew that she did not have a choice. If she rejected the invitation, Amira would expose her kids to the public and make a mountain out of a molehill.

The last thing Violla wanted was for herself and her kids to suffer from cyberbullying.

"It's at the former Milan family mansion," Amira said with a proud smirk. "Don't you know? The mansion belongs to us now. We've been living there for the past four years."

"Oh, really?" Violla said, forcing herself to stay calm. "Congratulations, Aunt Amira!"

"Haha! Thanks," Amira guffawed. "Dinner's at six o'clock tonight. Leila, my son-in-law, and my grandson will be there, so don't be late! Oh, as for my son-in-law…"

"Yeah, Franklin. I know him," Violla said, pretending to sound nonchalant. "I'll be there on time."

"That's great!" Amira chirped. "Do you need me to send a car to pick you up?"

"No need, I'll come there on my own," Violla said coldly. "It's about time you get going, Aunt Amira. My house isn't exactly in the best state to have you around."

"No worries. I'm taking my leave now," Amira said. "I won't disturb you or your family as long as you behave yourself!"

Violla's expression was rather glum as she hung up the phone, and she started to reminisce about her past.

Her father had built Milan Corporation from scratch, and they shared a tiny apartment when he first started.

Gerald Milan spent most of his time taking care of the company, and it had been Mrs. Blake who looked after Violla. As she aged, the houses she lived in grew bigger as well.

When she turned sixteen, her father became the richest man in the city, and they moved to a beautiful villa in the southern mountains.

"You're my little princess, Violla. I want you to live happily ever after," her father had told her on the day they moved. Violla never got to meet her mother, as she died during childbirth, but she was a happy little girl nonetheless.

However, her father had been way too protective of her, and when everything started to crash and burn around her, she could only stand by and watch helplessly. If not for her kids, she would have followed her father's footsteps and committed suicide too.

Going to Empire Night that year was a huge mistake, but she vowed to be a responsible and nurturing mother to her kids. The best thing she could wish for was for her kids to grow up healthy and safe from everything that had happened in the past, but the reality was far from ideal.

"Are they bullying me just because I'm alone and helpless?" Violla ruminated.

"Are you alright, Miss Milan?" Immaculate asked anxiously. "Did something go wrong?"

"I'm fine," Violla said, a little distracted by her thoughts. "I need to go out at six tonight. Can you give me some painkillers?"

"It won't work," Immaculate said with a smile. "I'll accompany you so that you can have peace of mind."

"Would it be too much trouble for you?" Violla said, moved by Immaculate's caring nature.

"Mr. Roman told me to take care of your wounds and fulfill your every need," Immaculate said, bending over to administer the medication. "I'll arrange for someone to dress you up, and we'll leave at five o'clock," the doctor said after Violla informed her of her invitation.

The stylist whom Immaculate called dressed Violla in a comfortable yet beautiful dress, along with a white scarf to cover her wounds. Her naturally curly hair gracefully spilled over her shoulders, and the stylist applied a thin layer of makeup to enhance her features. When the stylist finished, Violla looked like a literal goddess, and she found it difficult to get used to her new look.

For the past four years, she had not bothered to take care of her appearance, as she prioritized earning money above all else. She had almost forgotten just how beautiful she could be.

"Let's go!" Immaculate said, helping Violla into the car outside the villa.

"Wait!" Violla exclaimed. "This is Mr. Roman's Rolls-Royce Phantom, isn't it?"

"It just came back from the repair shop yesterday," Immaculate said. "Mr. Roman says you're free to use it anytime."

Violla's mind was all over the place as she recalled Davon from the previous night. She tried comparing him with the escort and remembered the night she saw the man in the car, injured, with the same cobra head tattoo.

"Miss Milan? Is everything alright?" Immaculate asked.

"I-I'm fine!" Violla said, startled by her own voice. "I'm honored to be able to ride in such a luxurious car."

"Consider it a treat from Mr. Roman," Immaculate said, grinning. "Shall we go?"

"Alright," Violla agreed. Even as she took her seat in the car, she continued to rack her brain.

"Um, Dr. Immaculate," Violla asked tentatively, "Was Mr. Roman injured not too long ago?"

"I'm sure she knows the answer! After all, she's his private doctor," Violla considered.

"No, Miss Milan," Immaculate answered. "He's the heir of the Romans family, and his safety is of the utmost importance. He has eighteen highly-trained security guards to protect him wherever he goes, ensuring that he doesn't get injured."

Violla nodded slowly. "He's not injured? Was I wrong?" She recalled how Davon had been swimming in the infinity pool on the office roof the last time she bumped into him, and he looked completely fine.

"Surely an injured person wouldn't be well enough to go swimming... Maybe I mistook someone else?" Violla thought.

"Why do you ask?" Immaculate inquired.

"Oh, I was just wondering if his bad temper was because of some kind of injury..." Violla stammered, trying her best not to sound suspicious.

"I see... Mr. Roman is actually a really nice person, you know, unless you offend him," Immaculate said. It sounded like a passing remark, but Violla failed to notice the strange glint in Immaculate's eyes.

She fell silent and stared at the scenery outside. "How am I going to deal with the Smiths later on?" she pondered.

Forty minutes later, they arrived at the Smiths' residences, formerly the Milan family residence. Violla caught sight of a group of familiar figures from miles away.

"Huh... looks like Aunt Amira is right... Dad's former subordinates are all here!" she observed.

Smith and Amira stood at the entrance, dressed for the occasion, extending their warmest welcomes to the guests who came prepared with expensive gifts. Violla couldn't help but sigh. "Isn't this how it used to be when Dad was alive? People would come to us every day with all those lavish gifts in tow and sweet-talk Dad all day long. I'm pretty sure there's nothing different here."

Her uncle Smith used to be among the guests, but he had since become the owner of the residence. Suddenly, a loud honk rang from behind, jolting her out of her trance. She looked up and noticed a white Bentley belonging to the Stanleys behind them.

"Hey! Why did you do that?" Franklin asked the chauffeur angrily.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Stanley," the chauffeur apologized, lowering his head.

"Why are you angry?" Leila asked, visibly annoyed. "This is our home, so we have the right of way."

"That Phantom looks like the one Mr. Roman owns," Franklin said ignoring Leila, winding the window down. "Did your parents invite Mr. Roman?"

"Mr. Roman?" Leila said, poking her head out of the window to take a closer look. "Do you mean Mr. Davon Roman from Romans Corporation?"

"Go and take a look," Franklin ordered his assistant, still ignoring Leila.

"Yes, sir," the assistant said, hopping off the car. After a while, he gestured to Franklin, who sat up in surprise.

"It's really him!" the guard exclaimed. "Stop the car!"

"Yes, sir," the chauffeur said as the car slowed to a halt.

Franklin alighted from the car and walked over to the Phantom as quickly as he could, while Leila struggled a little with her high heels just a few steps behind him.