The preparations for tonight's gala had been nothing short of meticulous—facials, hairstyling, couture fittings—the entire day had been a whirlwind of primping and preening.

Charlotte was practically vibrating with excitement. "I heard Genevieve will be there tonight, and Aurora Harrington herself is attending! They're both absolute icons. I must get their signatures, no matter what!"

Under normal circumstances, Margaret would have chastised Charlotte for such unladylike enthusiasm. But tonight, she let it pass.

After all, the families invited to Theodore Whitmore's event were undoubtedly as distinguished as the Blackwoods, if not more so. If Charlotte could forge a connection or two, it would only benefit them.

Margaret stood before the full-length mirror, critically assessing her reflection as she delivered her final instructions to her daughter.

"Keep your attention on the Harrington brothers tonight. All three of them—excellent lineage, impeccable character, no vices. If you could marry into the Whitmore family, you'd be set for life. But if the Harringtons show no interest, don't overlook Theodore's sons. I've heard Adrian and Julian are both unattached—don't waste this opportunity."

Charlotte's excitement dimmed instantly. Men held no appeal for her. Her heart raced only for extraordinary women like Aurora and Genevieve—true paragons of success.

Still, she didn't dare contradict her mother. Instead, a sly glint entered her eyes. "Nathaniel Harrington will be there tonight. Mother, if you could engage him in conversation, it might help me get closer to the family. But you'll need to soften your approach—men prefer gentler women, you know."

Margaret instinctively studied her reflection.

The woman staring back was no longer young, but she retained an undeniable elegance. Unlike many her age, she hadn't succumbed to weight gain—her figure remained statuesque. But years of wielding authority had etched a stern, distant expression onto her features, making her appear unapproachable.

At her age, after two failed marriages, Margaret had long abandoned romantic notions. Yet if it meant elevating the Blackwood name and securing Charlotte's future, she would play whatever role necessary.

A thought struck her, and she murmured, "If Alexander had remained unmarried, given time for Blackwood Enterprises to flourish, he'd be a worthy match for women like Genevieve or Aurora."

Compared to the Harringtons or the Whitmores, the Blackwoods still lagged behind. The Harringtons and Whitmores had generations of legacy, after all.

But Alexander was exceptional—on par with Nathaniel, the Harrington heir.

Her expression darkened as she added, "That woman, Amy, ruined Alexander's life."

Charlotte pressed her lips together. No one could deny her brother's brilliance, but the Blackwoods were at a disadvantage. Their foundation was shaky, and the company had barely survived multiple crises. When Alexander took over, he'd inherited chaos, forced to dedicate most of his energy to salvaging it.

Nathaniel, meanwhile, had assumed control of Harrington Enterprises at its zenith—how could the two even be compared?

Why would women like Aurora or Genevieve settle for "potential" when their radiance could secure them a husband like Nathaniel—someone already at the pinnacle?

Just then, the butler hurried in.

"Madam, the car is ready."

Margaret nodded and turned to Charlotte. "Let's go."

"Of course."