"Who doesn't?" she retorted, her tone dry. "The famous billionaire who built an empire overnight? You're the kind of guy who makes headlines whether he wants to or not."
I waved a hand dismissively. "It's not as glamorous as it sounds. But since we're exchanging names…" I raised an eyebrow. "Shouldn't I get yours in return?"
Claire studied me for a long moment, as if deciding how much to reveal. Then, finally, she relented. "Claire," she said simply. "Claire Starling."
I repeated her name softly, as if testing its weight. "Claire Starling." It suited her—sharp, unyielding, a little untouchable.
She held my gaze for a beat longer, her expression unreadable. "You're not what I expected, Jack," she admitted, her voice quiet.
"Most civilians would've run the second the shooting started. But you…" She shook her head slightly, as if she couldn't quite figure me out. "You stayed. You fought."
