Why Was PlayStation 3 Commercialisation Delayed Initially?

For three years, I was nothing but a replacement. After my hundredth blood donation to my three wives' true love, I vanished from their lives. They bombarded my phones with thousands of phone calls and ten times that number of text messages. 'I'm sorry, I'm really sorry, honey! I know I let our mom down. You can do anything to me, but please don't leave me!' 'Please, honey, I'm sorry. I'll do anything. I won't do it again, I swear! Just come back!' 'You can't leave me, honey! You're going to drive me mad! I can't live without you!' 'Please, just tell me where you are! Take my call, please!' … I changed my SIM card once I went back to Imperia and blocked all my wives' contacts. Peace and quiet came back to me. Three months later, I was told that my wives' companies went bust, and the love of their lives swindled them out of every single cent they had. And now they were scouring the land for me. That was a joke. They did not panic when they still had everything. They should never have done what they did. Too late for regrets.

Cold divorce papers. A shattered heart. And a man who realized her worth far too late. For three years, she endured a loveless marriage, clinging to the hope that one day he would choose her. But the moment his first love returned, he didn’t hesitate. He cast her aside without a second glance. Even her final, desperate question couldn’t make him stay. So she walked away… burying her love along with their past. Years later, she signs the final divorce papers from a hospital bed, ready to erase him from her life forever. That’s when the untouchable CEO breaks. In front of everyone, he falls to his knees, his voice trembling as he begs her not to leave him. He once let her go without regret. Now, he will do anything to have her back. But some wounds don’t heal… And some love stories don’t deserve a second chance.

For three years, Nina Walker had done everything James Gibson asked. Even when he sent her to Harbor City the day after their wedding, she never complained. In those three years, she didn’t just help the company gain a solid foothold there. She also turned her patents into more than a billion dollars in profit. But when her mother fell seriously ill and Nina begged him through tears to let her take time off, he shut her down with a single sentence. “She’s not dead yet, is she?” That was all it took for him to dismiss her. Nina came back anyway. Only then did she realize their marriage had been a lie from the very beginning. He had married her only for the sake of the child he’d had with the woman he’d never gotten over. He had sent Nina to Harbor City only so she wouldn’t disturb their happy little family of three. Even the dog she had left behind had been abused. In that moment, something inside Nina finally died. She resigned from the company, signed the divorce papers, and walked out of the Gibson family’s life without looking back. When James found out, he only gave a cold, dismissive laugh. He was sure she would come crawling back. But the next time he saw Nina, she was standing at the press conference of a biotech company. She had just developed a patented gene-editing technology, and she was answering reporters’ questions with calm confidence. Standing protectively by her side was the most powerful, untouchable tycoon in Harbor City’s elite circles. James dropped to one knee, tears streaming down his face. “Nina, I was wrong. Please. Give me one more chance.” Nina had given him plenty of chances. But this time, that chance was someone else’s. The man behind her stepped forward, wrapped an arm around her waist, and made his claim clear without hesitation. “She’s my wife now.”

Three years after I had made my girlfriend, Sophia Lambert, sleep with her superior, she finally went from being his lover to becoming his wife. Meanwhile, I barely made it out alive after years of being undercover in a drug trafficking ring. My body was broken beyond repair, and I had returned home only to wait for death. Sophia arrived with one of her arms wrapped around her husband’s during a charity visit for the poor. When she saw me standing in line for relief aid, she let out a mocking laugh. “Benjamin, how did you end up like this?” I hunched my shoulders. I hid the First-Class Merit Medal for Narcotics Enforcement I had received not long ago. After a long silence, I asked, “Are you happy now?” She twirled the diamond ring on her finger in a lackadaisical manner. “The wedding’s next week. What do you think? “If you want, you can even become a groomsman. Orlando believes in diversity. His groomsmen comprises of different kinds of guys. He’s just missing someone disabled.” I shook my head and turned down her offer. “No, I won’t be able to make it.” The poison in my body had already spread to my heart. I only had a few days left.

Three years after I died, my mother sent me twenty dollars for living expenses. Three years before that—the first time I ever asked my family for money—she said to me, offhand, "Sometimes I think you're just putting on an act. What's so unsanitary about a thirty-cent boxed meal? And why can't you wear a five-dollar down jacket? Face it, you're just more high-maintenance than your little brother." Later, when I needed twenty dollars to buy some cheap medicine for my stomachache, she blocked me immediately and cut off all contact—along with every relative we had. "Don't contact me anymore. I'm clearly not a good mother. I can't afford to give my son a life of luxury." But for my younger brother, who had just started high school, she spared no expense—renting him a three-bedroom apartment. Even the family dog got its own room. In the end, on the day my brother became the top scorer in the state, she finally remembered me. She took me off her block list and transferred twenty dollars. "It's only twenty dollars. Was it really worth giving your family the silent treatment for three whole years?" What she never knew was this— On the night my stomach ruptured, three years ago, I had already died. I couldn't afford to go to the hospital. I froze to death in the snow.

On New Year's Eve, I returned home. At the welcome party, my boyfriend, Grayson Caldwell, suddenly appeared, holding a bouquet of red roses and a diamond ring, dropping to one knee. "Although this proposal comes a full three years late, our love will never be late," he said. "Alexa, marry me!" Friends cheered from the sidelines, all expecting me to nod through tears and say yes. But they had forgotten that three years ago, on New Year's Eve, he had promised to propose. That night, I dressed to the nines and waited until dawn—but he never showed up. Instead, there was only a cold phone call. "Tanya is sick. I'm busy taking care of her. You'll have to wait a little longer for the proposal." And so, on New Year's Day, I left the country alone, bound by a family-arranged marriage. I had already married someone else three years ago.