He Hurts Me 99 Times for His Young Assistant

It was the 99th wedding I had planned with the mafia boss, Daniel Reed.

The venue was a private yacht anchored just off the coast of Valemont Harbor. A custom white carpet stretched across the rear deck, and in the distance, the Statue of Concord stood quietly over the golden sea.

This time, I didn't send out invitations. I didn't ask a single friend to come.

Only a few close family members attended, treating it more like a routine gathering than a wedding ceremony.

Just a few days earlier, I had been ambushed during a family meeting by Daniel's longtime enemy. I escaped alone, twisting my ankle in the process.

It was still swollen, so I couldn't wear my heels. Still, I pushed through the pain and confirmed the final vow sequence with the bishop.

Daniel didn't seem to care at all. His face stayed blank, and I couldn't see even the slightest concern in his eyes, for me or the wedding.

During the pre-ceremony break, he didn't come to the bridal suite. He didn't even glance at my injured foot.

He stayed in the VIP lounge on the main deck, crouched down, placing a bandage on his Gen Z assistant, Emily Jennings.

She had scraped her toe on the way there.

He held her foot in his hands and gently blew on the wound, as if calming a startled animal.

From across the deck, my mother watched the scene with a stormy expression.

"He never did that for you," she said quietly. "This isn't a wedding; it's pure humiliation."

Still, I put on the wedding dress that had waited with me through 99 failed ceremonies.

At sunset, I stood at the yacht's stern, waiting for Daniel to take my hand and walk with me down the white-rose lined aisle.

Minutes passed, but he never came.

When I approached the VIP lounge, two armed guards blocked my way.

"The boss has an urgent matter to handle," one said.

I held back my emotions and asked, "What urgent matter?"

The door opened. Daniel stepped out, supporting Emily, his expression tight with worry.

"Her foot's infected. I need to take her to the ER," he said. "Let's put the wedding on hold. Once she's feeling better, I'll be completely there for you, alright?"

Without even glancing at me, he helped Emily into the helicopter.

That year marked our sixth anniversary together.

It was also the 99th time he had canceled our wedding because of Emily.

In the past, I would have broken down. I would have screamed, chased after him, and tried everything to stop him from leaving.

But this time, I simply stood there and smiled faintly. "Sure. Emily's foot can't wait."

Daniel paused, clearly surprised by how calmly I responded.

"When I come back, I'll bring you fresh lilies. I know they're your favorite."

But I had never liked lilies.

Once at a banquet, I had an asthma attack triggered by lily pollen and needed to be rushed to the hospital.

Daniel had panicked. He carried me into the car and held the oxygen tank the entire way. He whispered to me, "I'm sorry. I'll never let you near lilies again."

He said he would remember it for a lifetime, but it didn't even last six years.

The helicopter rose into the sky, taking him and Emily with it. The blades stirred my veil and lifted the rose petals off the deck.

A bitter, silent smile touched my lips as I faced the guests. "The wedding is canceled," I announced.

Then, I raised the scissors in my hand and cut through the dress I had worn 99 times.

The white satin fell quietly onto the deck, like a graceful funeral.

I stared at the spot where the helicopter had vanished and muttered, "Daniel, six years of waiting should end here, just like this wedding dress."