Chapter 602 She's not my type.

Bearing the feeling of vomiting, Cynthia Wen looked at the left side of the bed. More than a meter away, on the single sofa in the bedroom, Tim Vogt looked at her coldly.

"Where am I?"

"My place."Tim Vogt said concisely.

It was an apartment with the setting sun shining on the windowsill the windows. The smoke-gray walls and the decoration were all summarized in a very standard way. In addition to the bathroom, the bedroom, living room, and leisure area were all connected.

It...