Chopper Drum Island Novels & Stories

Kristen said. “ It’s not going to be easy as you think? I said. “ I am not willing to start all over mom and I am not even ready to start building some business, think of a better idea” Kristen said. MIKEL. The chopper landed on the helipad on our own island. I could see the surprise on her face, she look back to me while the remaining Chopper landed while I call my remaining men who also told me they will be on their way to the island.

"And why do you look like you're on another planet?" "Because it feels like it!" I exclaimed. "Look at everything. The land, the water, the island. It's all yours. You're rich and it's scary." "I don't think that's the scary thing about me." "Whatever it is, I don't think it's as scary as you being rich enough to own an island." "Not one. Six." "Six," I muttered. I was rattled and it drove him into laughter. "Amazing." "C'mon, we have to get to my house and have us changed. There's a cruise going over to the other side of the water in an hour and after that, we are taking the chopper into the rainforest about three miles away."

Because. I'm now in front of the mansion, gazing out at the sea. I have no idea where Maria is right now. With the vastness of the mansion, it's difficult to locate her. So I'm here, hoping that if she happens to pass by on her way out of the mansion, I can speak with her to clarify what she said. What does she know? My thoughts about Maria were interrupted when I suddenly heard the sound of a chopper. I looked up at the sky and saw a helicopter approaching the island. As it got closer, the wind grew stronger, rustling the grass.

And I would not let her go. Finally, the island came into view—our private house rising from the rocks like a fortress. High stone walls circled it, topped with razor wire that caught the moonlight. The helipad sat on the cliff edge, lights flickering on as we approached. Dante guided us down smooth, the chopper settling with a soft thud. The rotors slowed, the thump fading to a whine. Salt air rushed in as the door opened, cool and sharp, carrying the crash of waves below.

And somewhere between the soft lamplight and the sound of waves crashing in the distance, I realized this wasn’t running away. The chopper cut through the sky like a promise, loud, sleek, and untouchable. I sat beside him, headphones muffling the roar, but nothing could mute the thunder in my chest. Romero didn’t say much, just glanced at me every so often like he was making sure I was still real. Still his. We flew over ribbons of blue, endless ocean kissed by light, until finally, it appeared. A private island. His island. I leaned toward the window, lips parting as a mansion came into view, nestled between cliffs and jungle, wrapped in glass and stone. Modern, isolated, a world untouched.

Or perhaps, remembering. Leo leaned in close, his lips brushing Silas’s ear. "I’m here," he whispered. "We’re safe." Silas’s hand moved blindly, finding Leo’s thigh. He gripped it hard, his fingers digging in even in unconsciousness. It was a lifeline. An hour later, the chopper began its descent. Through the rain-streaked window, Leo saw an island emerge from the black ocean. It was small, volcanic, with a single runway cut into the jungle. There was no terminal, just a hangar and a sprawling villa perched on the cliffs above.