lola red public relations

In high school, Thorn and his boyfriend Jett had their intimate video secretly recorded and leaked by the school bully, Pitch. Unable to endure the public scrutiny and domestic violence, Jett took his own life. Driven by revenge, Thorn underwent a gender reassignment surgery and became Rose. She entered Pitch's life to get close to him. There, she discovered that Pitch's bullying actually came from his own twisted crush on Thorn. She also found out that Pitch's father-in-law, Thanes, was the one who had murdered her parents. During her pursuit of revenge, Rose saw her best friend, Jennis, brutally killed by Pitch's wife, Denee. Pitch also died when he took a bullet for Rose. Denee couldn't take this anymore, and she turned against her own father. In the end, Rose let go of her hatred. Guided by Jett's spirit, she found a way to move on with her life. This violent quest for revenge exposed a powerful family's drug crimes and ended a cycle of hatred that had plagued three generations.

I was born broken. My Alpha mother was the one who branded me. She said emotion was a sin. A weakness. Especially for a werewolf. Especially for an Alpha’s heir. The day we were born, she clamped emotion-suppressing collars around our necks. Mine and my twin sister's. The slightest flicker of emotion, and the collar flashed red. My mother would then push the button, injecting me with a diluted "silver solution" to suppress my feelings. But my sister Cassia's collar? Always a calm, steady blue. Even when she shattered Mom's precious moonstone, it just pulsed gently. And me? I’d just whisper, "Mom, the thunder scares me," and my collar would erupt in a violent red. Then came the sting of silver poison burning through my blood.. I used to argue. But Mom always said the same thing. "The data doesn't lie. Pain is a teacher. This is for your own good." After thousands of these injections, I started to believe it, too. That I was born out of control. The night of the alliance's Moon Goddess Festival, Mom was taking my sister to the rooftop party. Something scared me during the day. The collar flashed red, and my mother started the punishment. But this time, the collar malfunctioned. It shot a dose a thousand times stronger into my neck. I collapsed on the carpet, begging, "Mother, the collar... it hurts so much... help me." My collar was flashing a frantic red. My mother just looked down at me, drenched in a cold sweat, and pressed the button for the maximum dose. "You'd lose control like this just for attention? You're a lost cause." She turned, took my sister, and slammed the door. I couldn't help but think, Mom must be right. The collar is red. It doesn't really hurt. I'm just being dramatic, looking for pity again. I'm sorry, Mom. In my next life, I'll be the perfect daughter you always wanted.