Ivan was waiting for her to reconcile with her family. Now his wish was completed and the reins that he had created for himself were broken so their position was making it more difficult to think of something else when she was right in his arms.

Arna bit her lips hard and the pain kept her mind sane looking at his unemotional face staring right into her eyes. She didn't want to do anything which would make him run away from her. So she controlled herself thinking she might freak him out.

​​

Sliding off his arms, she breathed out slowly to calm herself and her stupid heart which was excited to pester him every day to accept her proposal.

Ivan was glad she took a step back in time. He soon composed as if nothing happened just now. "Go, enjoy yourself with your family. I will see..."

Arna shook her head as she quickly cut him off, "No, no, no..." Composing back to her bold mischief self, she flipped her hair back and crossed her arms, "Bro's wife is inside, I am taking mine in."

Then she hooked her arm around his and took him inside without seeing surprised Ivan. He couldn't believe she could compose herself so quickly.

Taking his arm away, he stated in a matter-of-fact tone, "I am not your husband."

Arna grabbed his wrist without letting him go, "Who said you are husband? You are my wife. If you want to be my husband, you have to marry me first."

Ivan: "..."

'Bro's wife is inside, I am taking mine in.' He understood she meant it literally.

He was yet to recover, he saw the Morgan family members watching them intently. Arna pulled him to the front right next to her and introduced him to all.

"Meet my wife, Ivan Ross."

Ivan looked at her in horror while the rest burst into laughter excluding Alan.

Rian and Arna high-fived each other and the former exclaimed, "That's like my girl."

Arna smiled.

Roxy nodded in acceptance, "Don't leave any stone unturned."

Arna knew her family members were smart to understand Ivan hadn't accepted her and they will stand at her back to help her out.

Her happiness was short-lived. Arsh added after Roxy, "Get married and leave from here."

Arna and Ivann: "..."

Rooney chuckled before hugging his sister. "I promise not to cry at your wedding."

Arna: "..."

Aria was smiling standing with Alan while nobody could guess what Alan was thinking.

Ivan warily looked at Alan who was so cold and aloof that he felt his hair raise. 'You stupid Snow, your father will skin me alive.' He gulped nervously.

Alan's deathly chilly voice sounded wiping off all the smiles from others, "In my study, now." His commands were at Ivan.

Aria innocently blinked at her husband but he patted her head like a pet before going towards the stairs.

Ivan smacked Arna who scratched her head and went behind them hoping she didn't create trouble for Ivan. Her father is only easily controlled by her mother and none can understand him better.

Alan didn't turn but commanded, "Go and cook, Snow."

Arna froze.

Rian who always took things humorously followed the two men upstairs. The chance of Alan, father of a daughter disliking every prospectus groom for his daughter is high.

Arsh looked too calm to believe, Arna looked at her mother who hugged her to console her, "Remember, we don't get anything easily."

Arna hummed, "I will convince Dad. I hope Ivan doesn't run away from here." Then she went towards the kitchen without noticing Rooney muttering to Arsh.

"Bro, why do I feel like things are the exact opposite of what it looks?" Rooney probed.

Arsh glanced at his little brother before he smirked, "Don't forget he is my father." He was very confident his father is the bigger version of him.

Rooney took a few seconds to analyze Arsh's words before he laughed, "Sister Snow just came home and you two cunning father and son are trying to send her off."

Noor who was looking upstairs sighed deeply. She was right, when it comes to a daughter's choice, fathers can never be at ease how much ever the man is outstanding.

Noor went to the kitchen to help Arna while Roxy and Aria slumped on the couch.

They had long back spoken with each other that they had to be mentally prepared to see their children get married. In fact, they were also ready to face if Arsh and Arna announce they are married.

However, both still felt like their little ones grew up too fast. Since Aria knows Ivan very well, she was less bothered and was glad Arna chose somebody who is close to the family so even if she gets married they don't have to stay far.

Meanwhile, upstairs in the study room. Alan was sitting on the head seat of the desk, Rian stood beside Alan asking Ivan to sit.

Alan straight came to the point, "Do you like Snow?" His voice was grave as though he was ready to kick him out if the response to it is yes.

Rian quickly added to frighten the young man, "Don't you dare try to lie to us."

Ivan: "..."

He had no plans to lie to anybody. Arna never asked him if he loves her or likes her so she never got to know. Hearing 'like' he corrected Alan.

"I do love Snow." He accepted. Even though he was expecting Alan to be angry and disturbed by it, he was sure Alan won't be unreasonable.

Rian shot his question right after the response without showing his excitement of Snow having her loved one right next to her. "Then why haven't you accepted it to Snow?" The most important question.

Ivan glanced at Alan before responding to Rian without losing his composition. His father had taught him to be brave in every kind of situation however tricky it might be.

His mentor, President Cooper aka Aria had taught him to be confident if he is right and there is no need to be afraid just because the opposition looks overbearing and threatening.

He is a good student to start with, "Because I wanted Snow to return back to the family."

Rian approved the groom and looked at Alan hoping he wasn't going to make things difficult for Ivan.

Alan blinked when the two sets of eyes rested on him followed by grave silence. Facing Alan head-on isn't a piece of cake to anybody. Ivan knew he still needed lots of experience to face men like Alan. Anyway, he didn't cower down.