The window rolled down , revealing Lincoln's cold profile under the silver glow of the moon . His jaw was tense , and his voice carried no warmth . " Get in . " Elsa's bloodied hands tightened into fists . She hesitated . Could she trust him ? But when she glanced back- A swarm of bodyguards surged toward her . No time to think . She flung the door open and climbed in . " Hold on . " His voice came just as the tires screeched and the car rocketed forward . Heat blasted from the vents , but Elsa couldn't stop trembling . Lincoln glanced in the rearview mirror , then floored the accelerator . " Why did you save me ? " Elsa stared at his hands on the steering wheel - slender , precise , but radiating a chilling sharpness . " Because you're still useful , " he scoffed . " A dead pawn ? Martin Corp would have to find a whole new face ." " Not to mention , you're still a Moore . " Elsa let out a bitter laugh . " A fake one . " " Fake or not , I know which version brings me the better return . " Her nails dug deep into her palm . The pain kept her grounded . Her knee was still bleeding , blood soaking through the fabric - enough to make anyone dizzy . She bit her lower lip and tried to clean the wound . The searing pain made her gasp . Lincoln spoke without taking his eyes off the road . " Don't touch it . I'll have my private doctor take care of it . " in the rearview mirror , Mr. Dawson's villa had shrunk to a faint pinprick of light . But the nausea still churned in her gut . Thirty minutes later- Her wound had been cleaned and bandaged . She looked up and met Lincoln's gaze . " Thank you . " " No need to thank- " Apiercing siren cut him off . Three police cars blocked the estate's gates and swarmed in . Officers with drawn guns approached the villa . Elsa barely had time to react before they surrounded her . Tik Tok She turned to look at Lincoln . He leaned casually against a police cruiser , lighting a cigarette . The flame flickered , then he spoke , lips barely moving . " Ms. Moore … good luck . " In the courtroom . As the neural playback device was strapped to her head , Elsa felt a strange sense of déjà vu . Meanwhile , the livestream chat exploded in outrage . " How dare she ! Elsa's unbelievable ! " " Mr. Martin must've been tricked by that vixen ! " " Ugh , look at her - typical fake innocent . Who knows how many people she's fooled ." " Elsa Moore , you stand accused of murdering Dong Hua . How do you plead ? " the judge asked , banging the gavel . " I didn't kill anyone ! " Elsa's voice was hoarse . Her eyes scanned the courtroom gallery . Lincoln sat in the front row in a crisp suit , tapping his fingers idly against his knee . His expression said it all - he was watching a performance . The prosecutor held up a still from surveillance footage . Elsa , mid - kick , striking Mr. Dawson . Clear as day . The next frame showed him curled on the ground . But then … nothing . The footage cut off . And forensic evidence had confirmed Elsa's fingerprints at the scene . The prosecutor turned to her , voice rising . " What happened after that ? What did you do ? " In the next moment , the courtroom screen lit up with Elsa's recorded memory . The livestream chat went wild . " Let's gooo ! This is the part I've been waiting for ! " " That kick was brutal! Elsa wasn't playing around ." But then …. The memory stopped the moment she got into Lincoln's car . And from that point on- Mr. Dawson never appeared in the footage again . When Technology Proves the Wronged Heiress Innocent