Chapter 128 Any Last Words—Part 2

• It wasn't some sick twisted joke. And this man wasn't a delivery guy hired by some bozo at the office to scare the daylights out of her.
• No. This was her execution, and Ghostface, her executioner.
• The moment the penny dropped, the white box and the black rose scattered to the floor, and Camille put up her hands to ward off the attack as the man raised his gun and fired straight at her. The force of the bullet splitting her skin and shattering the bone in her arm sent her crashing to the floor.