She downloaded what appeared to be SoFi’s crypto trading app through a link he sent her — it had two-factor authentication and customer service, which she would come to regularly communicate with. She converted $1,000 of her savings into cryptocurrency on Coinbase, a crypto exchange, and from there, sent it to the trading app.
Datta and Mali sent screenshots back and forth, with Mali showing her exactly what to do.
She watched as within minutes her $1,000 turned into $1,250. And she had no problem withdrawing the whole balance from the app.
In late January, Mali said he couldn’t meet because he had a business trip to San Francisco.
By then, she had turned a $6,000 investment into $9,000. Between messages about crypto, they talked about the vegan meals she was cooking, sent selfies and flirty emojis, and cooed over photos she sent from the cat shelter where she volunteered.
He often checked on her (“Have you eaten yet darling?”) and when she thanked him for helping her invest, he responded, “I said I would protect you.” It was exactly the kind of care Datta dreamed of.
Mali’s time in California dragged on. He said his uncle was sick with terminal cancer; he had to care for him. They video chatted twice very briefly — Mali said he was shy, the camera didn’t linger on his face — and he showed her his dog. Datta thought she heard his French accent.
To make real money, he told her, they’d need to increase their investment. He lent her $150,000 and urged her to invest more of her money, to sell her stocks and take out personal loans. She listened. He grew irate when she struggled to tap into her 401(k) account, facing questions at work about why she wanted to do so.
“Can’t you control your own money?” he said.
“Please talk to me nicely,” she wrote back.
On Valentine’s Day, he sent her a bouquet from Bee Flowers, a shop in Port Richmond.
The next day, she successfully liquidated her 401(k).
“I was in a trance,” she said. “I felt like I had met my person.”
By the end of March, Datta’s $450,000 investment in the fake app had more than doubled. But when she went to withdraw it, she received a message that she had to first pay a 10% personal tax.
With a sinking feeling, she called her brother, a lawyer in London.
The photos Mali had sent her, her brother discovered with the help of a private investigator, were not of a French wine trader but of a German fitness influencer who knew his way around a mirror selfie. Datta began to see everything in a painful new light: Mali’s never-ending trip to San Francisco, all his excuses about not being able to meet up, and the strange references to China, such as that time he said she should be a “Chinese wife.”
The first week of April, Datta filed reports with the police and the FBI. She hasn’t received substantive updates from either, including any word on whether she stands a chance of recovering any of her money. A few days later, Coinbase froze her account, writing in an email: “We are concerned you may have sent cryptocurrency to a fraudulent investment platform.” Coinbase did not respond to a reporter’s request for comment.
Since her fantasy shattered, Datta has started psychotherapy and joined a support group for victims of cyber romance scams.
She’s reflected on why she was the perfect victim.
As a single woman approaching middle age in a culture that privileges coupledom, “I felt like I had a hole in my soul from not having a man in my life.” And as an immigrant without deep roots and relationships in the city, she was used to doing everything on her own.
She made a six-figure salary but never paid much attention to her money; investing with Mali made her feel that she was “taking empowered action.” And her standards for men were low, making her fall for all Mali’s seemingly caring attention.
In the aftermath of the scam, she’s had to deal with the judgment of others who scoff,
I’d never fall for that. Still, she wants to combat the shame she’s felt and hopes that sharing her story will prevent others from falling for the same con.
“My goal is to not hide,” she said.
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. Worst homeowners to deal with. Always want something for free after they sign the contract and doing the dumbest shyt to break stuff.
