
![[ENG DUB] Farewell of the Voiceless Rose](https://acfs3.goodshort.com/dist/src/assets/images/pc/common/f901131c-default-book-cover.png)
After suffering aphasia from a car accident, Heather Phillips is devastated when her husband William Manning asks for a fake divorce to appease his mistress. Taking him at his word, Heather makes it real. Sebastian Hart, heir to the Hart Group, flies back immediately upon hearing the news and proposes to Heather. She leaves with him without looking back, leaving William filled with regret.

After suffering aphasia from a car accident, Heather Phillips is devastated when her husband William Manning asks for a fake divorce to appease his mistress. Taking him at his word, Heather makes it real. Sebastian Hart, heir to the Hart Group, flies back immediately upon hearing the news and proposes to Heather. She leaves with him without looking back, leaving William filled with regret.

After a severe car accident, 7-year-old Isabella Wellington was abandoned after having her blood drained out by evil family members, in order to keep her own brother alive. 17 years later, Olivia struggles to fight off brutal bullying from the Wellingtons whom she works for. Unknown to the Wellingtons, their target of bullying, daughter raised by a janitor, Olivia, is in fact Isabella Wellington, the precious lost heiress, whom they have been searching for for 17 years.

To save his collapsing company, Ray Shaw married the Lee family's heiress,Hannah, abandoning his fiancée, Quincy Channing, who loved his brother, Harry. When he returned triumphantly, Quincy came crying and begged him not to leave.

The legendary Miss Santos died and became the adopted daughter of the Santos family, Heather. Heather’s adoptive parents forced her to get engaged to Timothy Eves, a crippled man. But, they didn’t know that Timothy was actually the primary heir of the Eves family, and that Heather was not the same village girl, but a female MMA champion, a miracle-working doctor, and a top hacker.

When Adriano Morelli realized I hadn’t submitted a single household request in three days, he called me himself for the first time in months. “Serafina,” he said, his voice smooth and patient, “the clinic has been cleared. Your file is back on priority. See? When you stop making things difficult and learn how this family works, I make sure you’re taken care of.” He always sounded the gentlest when he was reminding me who held the power. What he didn’t know was that by the time his name lit up my screen, the divorce papers were already drafted. From the outside, I had everything a woman could want: a guarded penthouse, a driver on call, designer clothes, and the last name of one of the most feared men in the city. But almost none of it was mine. The cards were monitored. Cash had to be approved. Staff took Viviana Costa’s orders before they ever listened to me. Even the wardrobe budget, my schedule, and access to the family office all ran through her hands. Adriano called it convenience. Three days ago, I was rushed into a private clinic, blood soaking through my dress, while a doctor told me there was still a chance to save the baby if the emergency deposit was paid immediately. I called Adriano until my hands shook. Viviana stalled the transfer. First there was no direct authorization. Then the amount was too large. Then Adriano was in a meeting and could not be disturbed over something that might not be serious. By the time the money came through, it was too late. The baby was gone. I had stayed with Adriano for two reasons: I loved him, and I believed that when it truly mattered, he would choose me. I was wrong about both. Our child died first. My marriage died with it.

My husband, Cesare Ferrante, the most feared Don of the Ferrante family, had always hated children. Yet everything changed the moment my stepsister, Bianca Moretti, moved in next door with her six-month-old baby. Suddenly, my husband became obsessed with that child. He personally fed the baby formula, sang lullabies, and carried the baby everywhere he went. Every day, he came home exhausted at dawn, yet his face glowed with joy, as if that baby occupied his entire soul. I became invisible to him. Three days ago, someone forced my car off the road, and I crashed into the median. Blood streamed down my forehead, and my vision swam. I called Cesare 55 times. He did not answer a single call. Instead, he posted a photo of the baby on his social media. [My little angel smiled today!] I had had enough. Tonight at the family banquet, every member of the famiglia was seated around the table. I raised my final toast, then set down my glass. "I want a divorce." They all froze. "Are you insane?" My parents' voices rose in unison. Cesare grabbed my wrist, disbelief written across his face. "Giulia, you want to divorce me just because I was busy taking care of the baby and didn't answer your calls? You're actually jealous of a six-month-old child?" I did not meet his eyes. Instead, I stared at the glaring kiss mark behind his ear. "Since you love that child so much," I said calmly, "I'll make it easy for you. Go be that child's father."

When her family was facing big trouble, Stacey Sanchez had no choice but to break up with Smith Gilbert and choose to marry Zayne Harris. Then, when she decided to divorce Zayne and got into a fight with him, to protect the baby of her and Smith, she accidentally injured Zayne and thus ended up in jail. Five years later, after getting released from prison, Stacey came across Smith who had returned to the country.

Raised by the Yoners, Autumn discovers she's not their biological child but the heiress of the prestigious Yale family. The real Yoner daughter, Vivian, now a destitute beggar, is manipulated by a vengeful former housekeeper to disgrace the Yoners. When Autumn is betrayed and confined by her adoptive parents, Xenith Yale emerges, offering support and encouragement. Together they unravel the conspiracy, restoring Autumn's rightful place and finding love amidst turmoil, while Vivian and her accomplice face their comeuppance.

"I loved Dante Rossi for twenty years. I gave up my medical career, my dreams, and my dignity for him. On the eve of our wedding, I discovered he had gotten another woman pregnant — his childhood companion, Isobel. So on what should have been the happiest day of my life, I canceled the wedding, burned every photo and letter, and disappeared without a trace, leaving only one sentence on our calendar: “Let’s break up, Dante.” Two years later, I returned as a successful medical researcher, engaged to a man who truly loves me. But Dante finally learned the truth — I was the one who took a bullet for him five years ago, not Isobel. Now the once-arrogant heir of the arms empire has lost everything. He kneels before me, regrets eating him alive, and begs for another chance. He even blocked a knife meant for me with his own body. But it’s too late."