“That’s fair.” I let out a short laugh, the tension from our fight easing off my shoulders, even as another weight lands in its place. “So what’s the plan with these posts?”
“We don’t engage publicly,” she says, slipping back into tactical mode. “No statements. No feeding it attention. But I’mgoing to dig into whoever’s running this Bayside Truth Watch page. See whether there’s any real coordination or funding behind it.”
“Thanks for staying on top of this.”
DK walks into the room just as the words leave my mouth.
“On top of what?” he asks after I disconnect.
“Campaign business,” I say evasively, tossing my phone onto the bed. “Anika’s decided to stay on.”
He studies me, aware that’s not the full story, but he respects the headline. “I’m glad, Luna. That must be a huge weight off..”
I nod and go back to folding my dress into my overnight bag. Criticism goes with the territory, but anonymous attacks aimed at my character in such a personal way slide under my skin.
“What else was that call about?”
My eyes lift to his. “I thought we agreed not to talk about our campaigns.”
“The politics of it, yes.” He steps to me, hooking a finger under my chin, and searching my face. “But something upset you. I can see it.”
The agitation inside me churns, seeking an outlet. “Some page called Bayside Truth Watch is pushing narratives about me being fake and power-hungry.”
DK immediately pulls out his phone. I hadn’t looked at the posts myself, and I don’t plan to. I’m not letting nameless trolls derail my focus.
A few moments later, the relaxed ease that had softened him all morning disappears. His attention sharpens behind his glasses as he rapidly scrolls. “This reads almost too clean,” he says analytically. “The way the messages echo each other. Same talking points. Same phrasing.”
A chill moves through me despite the sunlight pouring through the windows.
“In a major city, this kind of thing gets lost in the noise,” he continues, the strategist in him assessing risk. “But Bayside’s small enough for narratives to gain traction.” His gaze gentles on me. “I’ll look into the domain registration right away.”
“No.” The word snaps out. “Anika’s handling it.”
His hand tightens around the phone. “I have resources that can shut this down before it grows,” he says. “Let me help, Luna. I’ve handled smear campaigns like this before.”
God, it’s tempting, which is exactly why it’s dangerous. “I know you have, DK. But it’s not your responsibility.”
For a split second, he looks hurt. “You are my responsibility.”
“Yes,” I say, softening my tone. “I am. But my campaign isn’t.”
“Luna—”
“This is exactly the line we talked about. The minute you start intervening for me politically, where does it stop?”
I can see the tug-of-war battling within him—his protective instincts pulling one way while the boundaries we built pull in the other direction.
“I’m going to get attacked,” I continue. “There’s no escaping that in politics. But if you step in every time somebody comes after me, eventually you compromise your own job.”
His jaw flexes at the truth of my words.
“I love you, Luna,” he says, thick with emotion. “I just want to take care of you.”
“I know, boo.” I slide my arms around his neck and rise onto my toes. “But you can do that without crossing the line. I don’t need you to be my strategist.”
He sets his phone aside before settling his hands in the dip of my lower back and pulling me flush with him. “What do you need from me?” he murmurs.
“This,” I whisper, as he lowers his head and I press my cheek to his. “Just this.”
