ETERNAL BLOOM

Prologue

"She was the light in his eternal night, a fragile flame defying the shadows that loomed within his soul."

Morloch City, Midnight

The city lights of Morloch glittered below like a sprawling constellation, a stark contrast to the dimly lit penthouse where Dorian Blackwood brooded in solitude. The room, adorned with dark mahogany and rich velvet, exuded an opulent yet somber atmosphere. Dorian, dressed in a tailored black suit, stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, his eyes lost in the maze of streets far below.

The chime of a grandfather clock broke the silence. Dorian turned his gaze from the cityscape to the shadowed corners of his penthouse. His reflection in the glass was as timeless as the city itself-handsome, with a chiseled jawline and intense eyes that seemed to hold centuries of sorrow.

He was alone, as he often was. A solitary figure in an endless expanse of luxury. He glanced at the photograph on the desk-a faded image of a woman with a hauntingly familiar beauty. The edges of the photograph were yellowed with age, yet her eyes seemed as vivid as ever.

A knock on the door jolted him from his reverie.

"Enter," Dorian's voice was smooth, yet carried an air of command.

His assistant, **Martha**, a poised woman in her early forties, stepped in. Her eyes were filled with a mixture of concern and curiosity.

"Mr. Blackwood, the board meeting is scheduled for tomorrow, and I wanted to remind you of the..."

Her words trailed off as she noticed the photograph on his desk.

"Still thinking about her?" Martha asked gently.

Dorian's eyes darkened. "Some memories are difficult to escape, Martha. Even after all these years."

Martha stepped closer, her gaze softening. "You know, it's not healthy to keep holding onto the past. There's a whole world outside these walls."

Dorian's expression remained inscrutable. "The world outside is full of fleeting moments and hollow promises. I have no use for them."

Martha sighed, knowing better than to press further. "Well, if you change your mind, I've arranged for a charity gala this weekend. It could be...a distraction."

A brief flicker of interest crossed Dorian's face. "Charity, you say?"

"Yes," Martha nodded. "It's a high-profile event. Many influential people will be there. Perhaps it would be good for you to make an appearance."

Dorian studied her for a moment before responding. "Very well. I'll consider it."

As Martha left, Dorian's gaze returned to the photograph. The woman's eyes seemed to beckon him, stirring a deep, restless longing within him. He picked up the photograph, tracing her face with a finger.

"Soon," he murmured to himself, "perhaps soon, the past will find its way to me."

The night wore on, and the city's hum was a distant murmur against the silence of the penthouse. Dorian's thoughts were heavy with memories and unspoken fears. He had lived for centuries, burdened by his immortality and the loss of his true love. The charity gala might be a chance for a diversion, but part of him hoped it would bring more-a chance encounter, a revelation, or perhaps even a glimpse of something that could shatter the darkness surrounding his heart.