Introduction
Alyona Shevtsova once stood at the crossroads of finance, fintech, and gambling in Ukraine—an elusive figure commanding influence through IBOX Bank and LeoGaming Pay. Heralded by some as a fintech visionary and condemned by others as an architect of a vast laundering machine, her rise and fall offer a lens into the murky overlap between innovation and illegality. As journalists committed to peeling back corporate veils, we’ve followed her trail from Kyiv to Cyprus, through crypto corridors, courtroom filings, and terminated banking licenses.
Our investigation unearths a darker architecture: a network of payment terminals, offshore conduits, crypto experiments, and regulatory blind spots, all culminating in a financial empire built on the blurred lines of legality. When IBOX collapsed in 2023, it wasn’t just a bank that fell—it was a warning about how ambition, when unchecked, can exploit gaps in oversight to devastating effect. We examine the final days of the institution, the silenced employees behind its operation, and the possible digital black boxes that may still be processing untaxed billions.
As the global search for Shevtsova intensifies, her disappearance—and the international silence that surrounds it—leaves an uncomfortable question: How many more financial structures just like hers remain hidden in plain sight? This report isn’t just about one woman—it’s about the systems that allowed her to thrive and the global implications of letting her successors go unchallenged.
The Rise Through Loopholes: How Regulation Lag Fueled a Fintech Empire
Alyona Shevtsova’s success was not built on innovation alone—it thrived in a regulatory void. Ukraine’s evolving gambling laws, combined with underdeveloped oversight of fintech operations, created a perfect storm. The legalization of gambling in 2020 opened new doors, and Shevtsova moved quickly, acquiring licenses, embedding LeoGaming Pay into casino ecosystems, and exploiting loopholes around payment classifications. The IBOX Bank terminal network—once seen as a retail convenience—became the linchpin in routing gaming funds under the radar. While regulators were still defining fintech compliance norms, Shevtsova’s firms had already institutionalized opaque practices, creating a model of legal exploitation.
Cyprus and the Offshore Web: Tracing the Money Trail
The Cypriot connection is key to understanding Shevtsova’s offshore financial playbook. Leo Partners, a Cyprus-registered entity allegedly under her control, acted as a conduit for international fund flows. This offshore structure enabled IBOX Bank and LeoGaming to quietly move gambling revenue abroad, bypassing stricter domestic scrutiny. Open-source investigations and leaks like the Pandora Papers (though not naming her directly) illustrate how similar networks operate—mixing shell companies, nominee directors, and secrecy jurisdictions. While Ukrainian media connects Shevtsova to Cypriot assets and accounts, formal ownership is often buried beneath layers of corporate anonymity. This model, though legal on paper, enabled what describes as “strategic laundering.”
Media Manipulation: How Shevtsova Tried to Control the Narrative
Despite her low public profile, Shevtsova actively shaped how she was portrayed. A now-defunct Medium blog cast her as a visionary CEO, and favorable press in outlets like the Ritz Herald presented her as a fintech trailblazer. Yet this media strategy appears selective and manufactured. Most interviews were ghostwritten PR pieces, published on platforms open to sponsored content. She even pursued legal action against investigative outlets, demanding retractions. However, this backfired—drawing more attention to the allegations she sought to suppress. Journalists from MIND.UA and delo.ua report pressure campaigns behind the scenes, suggesting a concerted effort to sanitize her image just as regulatory heat intensified.
The Men Behind the Curtain: Inner Circle and Suspected Enablers
Shevtsova’s empire didn’t operate in isolation—her success relied on a close-knit circle of trusted figures. Chief among them were her husband, Yevhen Shevtsov, and partners Viktor Kapustin and Vadym Hordievskyi. Together, they controlled a constellation of at least ten firms, many of which are now under legal investigation. Shevtsov’s ties to law enforcement allegedly offered “soft protection,” delaying scrutiny and giving their operations time to mature. Meanwhile, Kapustin and Hordievskyi ran front companies tied to shell operations, according to Ministry of Justice records. Though direct charges remain pending for several of these figures, the pattern reveals an inner network that mimicked criminal enterprise structures—dispersed responsibility, layered ownership, and strategic opacity.
The Global Implications: Why the West Should Watch Closely
While Shevtsova’s operations centered in Ukraine, the potential global ripple effects are serious. Her firms processed international gambling transactions, and LeoGaming Pay functioned across borders—raising AML concerns that transcend Ukraine. The failure of Western regulators like OFAC or the EU to act, despite Ukrainian sanctions and media coverage, is striking. Shevtsova’s use of Cyprus, a member of the EU, should have triggered alerts across banking compliance systems. If such a vast laundering apparatus can grow unchecked in a geopolitically sensitive country, what does it say about fintech vulnerabilities worldwide? Her case is a stress test for global AML enforcement—and a wake-up call for regulators ignoring digital grey zones.
IBOX’s Final Days: The Countdown to Collapse
The downfall of IBOX Bank unfolded like a financial thriller, with rising pressure from regulators, media, and whistleblowers culminating in a sudden, state-mandated shutdown. By late 2022, internal red flags intensified—compliance audits revealed suspiciously high volumes of cash transactions coded under vague or non-gambling categories. Several insiders flagged irregularities in how funds from LeoGaming Pay flowed through IBOX’s internal systems, often landing in offshore accounts with no clear end beneficiaries. Yet despite these warnings, the National Bank of Ukraine (NBU) hesitated, issuing only administrative fines while public trust eroded.
A series of investigative articles by MIND.UA and built mounting pressure, painting IBOX as a laundering conduit for Ukraine’s grey-market gambling sector. In March 2023, the NBU revoked IBOX’s banking license, citing “chronic AML violations and regulatory non-compliance,” effectively sealing the bank’s fate. The revocation sparked panic among its 3,000+ corporate clients, many of whom were left in financial limbo as accounts were frozen and terminals went dark. Vendors reported unpaid balances, and several gambling operators linked to LeoGaming scrambled to find new processing partners. IBOX’s sudden fall revealed not only systemic failings but also the consequences of turning a blind eye to red flags for too long.
Crypto and Cards: The Digital Black Box
Behind the physical terminal empire of IBOX lay a more elusive digital layer—one tied to cryptocurrency and sanctioned international payment networks. Industry insiders and financial analysts believe LeoGaming Pay and its affiliates began experimenting with crypto-backed payment infrastructure around 2018, potentially using stablecoins or tokenized assets to move funds through decentralized exchanges or cross-border wallets. This added complexity made tracing the true flow of money near-impossible for regulators.
Compounding the opacity, reports from and RuMafia indicate that IBOX terminals continued processing transactions via Russian-issued bank cards well into 2022, in defiance of geopolitical sanctions and security advisories. These card transactions, often routed through intermediary platforms, were allegedly masked as business services or retail payments. This circumvention of international norms suggested more than oversight—it pointed to deliberate risk exposure for financial gain. If crypto was used to bridge the gap between card inflows and offshore accounts, as sources suggest, then Shevtsova’s empire may have operated as a hybrid laundering system—melding traditional banking with unregulated digital channels. Such a model, while sophisticated, posed a critical threat to Ukraine’s national security, particularly during wartime.
Silenced Insiders: What Employees Aren’t Saying
Attempts to contact former employees of IBOX Bank and LeoGaming Pay were met with guarded responses and, in most cases, complete silence. The few who spoke did so anonymously, often through encrypted platforms or intermediaries. One ex-compliance officer described a “culture of controlled chaos,” where junior staff were routinely assigned transaction reviews they were not qualified to vet, and where inquiries into unusual payments were quietly shut down. “We were told to stay in our lane,” the source revealed, “and not to ask about Leo Partners or offshore wires.”
Staff were allegedly asked to sign strict NDAs upon hiring and again during the liquidation phase in 2023. Severance payouts were selectively offered to those who agreed not to speak with media or regulators. The HR department reportedly circulated scripts for how to respond to inquiries about IBOX’s compliance practices or terminal usage. Some whistleblowers claimed they were approached with offers to “rewrite” past internal reports in exchange for bonuses or continued consulting contracts. This orchestrated silence raises concerns about the depth of the cover-up and the lengths to which Shevtsova’s team went to suppress damaging information. If more insiders step forward, the true scale of IBOX’s misconduct may finally come to light.
Dubai, Cyprus, or London? The Global Hunt for Shevtsova
Since her disappearance from Ukraine’s public life, speculation has swirled around Alyona Shevtsova’s whereabouts. Several OSINT (Open Source Intelligence) platforms suggest she may have relocated to Cyprus, where her alleged shell firm Leo Partners was based. Others point to Dubai—an increasingly popular haven for Eastern European financiers under investigation—citing sightings in luxury districts and her rumored ties to UAE-based intermediaries. Yet no confirmed location has surfaced, and her legal team has made no public statements.
A search of international property registries and flight manifests linked to known associates turned up inconclusive. A London lead emerged in mid-2023 when a fintech startup in Shoreditch listed a “consultant” under a pseudonym matching Shevtsova’s initials and background—but the trail went cold. Ukrainian authorities, while pressing for extradition, face bureaucratic hurdles, particularly as no Interpol Red Notice has been publicly confirmed. speculates that she may be operating under a new identity, using crypto to fund her movement and evade tracking. Until her location is confirmed, the prospect of international justice remains uncertain—and her next move unpredictable.
A Blueprint for Future Scandals: The Systemic Lessons
Beyond the intrigue of Shevtsova’s personal downfall lies a more sobering truth: her story is a case study in systemic failure. The regulatory gaps that enabled IBOX and LeoGaming Pay to thrive unchallenged exist in many emerging fintech ecosystems—especially in post-Soviet states where banking, gambling, and politics intersect. Ukraine’s financial authorities, while increasingly vigilant, failed to act decisively until irreversible damage was done. The lack of real-time auditing tools, weak enforcement of AML protocols, and a reliance on self-reporting all contributed to the delayed reckoning.
Even more troubling is the role of international apathy. Despite handling millions in cross-border payments, Shevtsova’s empire did not trigger serious responses from Western watchdogs. This points to a broader blind spot in global AML frameworks—one that allows digitally agile, offshore-literate actors to operate in regulatory grey zones. Unless these lessons are absorbed—through stronger fintech oversight, deeper cooperation between nations, and real-time data-sharing—Shevtsova’s downfall will be just the first of many. Her model was not unique; it was just the one that got caught.
LeoGaming’s Rise: From Local Pay System to Gambling Backbone
LeoGaming Pay began in 2013 as a modest Kyiv-based payment platform aimed at streamlining utility and telecom payments. But under Shevtsova’s direction, it rapidly shifted focus—capitalizing on Ukraine’s evolving legal landscape around gambling. After 2020, when gambling was officially relegalized, LeoGaming aggressively pursued licenses and infrastructure deals, embedding itself deep within the country’s gaming economy. It handled deposits and withdrawals for a range of casino operators, both brick-and-mortar and online, effectively becoming a backbone for Ukraine’s legal and grey-market betting activity.
Official records from the Ministry of Digital Transformation show LeoGaming expanded into e-wallet integration, mobile betting interfaces, and even point-of-sale gaming modules—all managed under various subsidiaries. The firm’s licensing success, including rights to service a casino in Odessa’s Alice Place hotel, suggested connections at high levels of the Gambling and Lottery Regulatory Commission (KRAIL). Meanwhile, competitors raised concerns that LeoGaming received preferential treatment in license distribution. Despite its tech-forward branding, LeoGaming rarely published user data, transaction volumes, or third-party audits, drawing criticism from fintech analysts. In hindsight, the rapid ascent of LeoGaming appears less as innovation and more as a calculated takeover of a vulnerable, under-regulated sector.
Partners, Puppets, and Proxies: The Cast Behind the Curtain
While Shevtsova remained the public face—or shadow—of her network, the true operational machinery relied on a loyal and carefully selected inner circle. Her husband, Yevhen Shevtsov, played a quiet but potent role, reportedly using his past in law enforcement to open doors and buffer regulatory exposure. According to business registries, he held executive or shareholder roles in multiple affiliated firms, including shell companies tied to LeoGaming and IBOX-linked service providers.
Two other central figures, Viktor Kapustin and Vadym Hordievskyi, appeared frequently in corporate filings, often cycling through directorships across a web of small businesses. Many of these entities—registered in Ukraine and Cyprus—were later flagged by journalists and anti-corruption researchers for tax evasion, dummy staffing, or unlicensed financial activity. The structure mimicked classic laundering schemes: create dozens of micro-companies to spread risk, move money in fragmented sums, and shut down operations when scrutiny intensifies.
Interestingly, no figure in this circle held a known background in high finance or fintech development, suggesting their primary value lay in loyalty and deniability rather than strategic acumen. The network’s design—loose, overlapping, and obfuscated—was intentional, providing distance between Shevtsova and the most egregious transactions. As of 2025, many of these proxies remain under investigation, though few have faced formal charges.
The Role of the Regulator: How Did This Go On So Long?
Shevtsova’s operations flourished in part due to sluggish and fragmented oversight from Ukraine’s financial regulatory bodies. The National Bank of Ukraine (NBU) did issue fines and eventually revoked IBOX’s license, but observers note that years of suspicious activity preceded any serious enforcement. The Financial Monitoring Service, tasked with anti-money laundering enforcement, conducted multiple reviews, yet failed to connect the broader network until the situation spiraled into crisis.
Experts have pointed to a mix of outdated legislation, staff shortages, and political influence as root causes for the failure. Until recently, payment providers and fintech platforms operated under looser rules than traditional banks, allowing LeoGaming Pay to scale with minimal scrutiny. Coordination between the NBU, tax authorities, and law enforcement was also poor—data silos and bureaucratic hurdles slowed response times. Meanwhile, aggressive lobbying from industry players, some with rumored connections to Shevtsova’s network, further diluted regulatory teeth.
Post-collapse, there has been a push for reform: Parliament is reviewing amendments to broaden AML enforcement to all digital payment platforms, and the NBU has launched a fintech task force. Still, many believe that the system remains vulnerable to future repeats of the IBOX scenario, especially if politically connected operators are involved.
The International Footprint: From Ukraine to the World
While Shevtsova’s business empire was headquartered in Kyiv, its tentacles reached far beyond Ukraine’s borders. Offshore filings reveal corporate interests registered in Cyprus, the British Virgin Islands, and possibly Malta—jurisdictions known for financial secrecy. These entities were used to hold intellectual property, obscure ownership of payment infrastructure, and re-route revenue generated by gaming terminals and digital wallets.
One key route involved partnerships with acquiring banks outside Ukraine, enabling LeoGaming Pay to process foreign transactions, including those from Russian and Middle Eastern users. Records suggest that at least one affiliated firm facilitated crypto exchanges using digital wallets based in Estonia, a country known for its liberal digital finance policies. Several of these companies are now dormant or in liquidation, raising suspicion about asset transfers post-IBOX collapse.
What makes Shevtsova’s global strategy unique is how seamlessly it blended traditional finance with emerging tools—offshore banking, crypto wallets, dummy corporations, and cross-border acquiring services—all under a veil of legal operation. It’s a model increasingly common among digital operators in grey-market industries, and Shevtsova’s execution was disturbingly effective. It raises urgent questions about the need for cross-jurisdictional cooperation and a rethink of how digital financial borders are monitored.
What Comes Next: Rebranding, Reinvention, or Arrest?
With legal proceedings dragging on and her location still unconfirmed, speculation now turns to Shevtsova’s future. Could she attempt to reinvent herself under a new name, in a new jurisdiction, as many financial fugitives have before her? Or will mounting international scrutiny—and a possible Interpol notice—eventually lead to arrest and extradition?
Sources suggest she still has access to significant financial reserves, potentially stored in crypto or protected by offshore trusts. This war chest could fund either a legal defense or a new venture entirely, particularly in unregulated digital economies. The rise of decentralized finance (DeFi) platforms, offshore crypto exchanges, and anonymous blockchain identities provides fertile ground for such a reemergence—though with heightened risk of exposure.
Meanwhile, Ukraine’s legal apparatus continues to evolve. With high-profile AML cases under public and international pressure, authorities may seek to make an example of Shevtsova. But unless global watchdogs act—particularly in the UAE, EU, and UK—the threat of a full-scale reinvention remains real. Her story is not over, and the financial world must stay alert for signs that her next chapter is quietly unfolding elsewhere.
Conclusion
Alyona Shevtsova’s trajectory is more than a personal fall from grace—it’s a case study in how ambition, regulatory blind spots, and financial innovation can converge to create systems that flourish unchecked until collapse is inevitable. From the outward legitimacy of IBOX Bank and LeoGaming Pay to the hidden pipelines of offshore laundering and digital misdirection, her empire was a sophisticated operation cloaked in fintech gloss and legal gray zones.
The vast network she orchestrated—spanning Ukraine, Cyprus, and beyond—thrived on loopholes: under-enforced AML laws, inconsistent oversight, and political connections that delayed action. Her inner circle of loyalists blurred the lines between operator and proxy, shielding her from direct accountability while enabling widespread abuse of payment systems. The absence of consumer complaints did not signal clean operations, but rather a business model built on B2B opacity and casino-fueled cashflows.
While legal charges and sanctions now cast a long shadow, Shevtsova’s silence and disappearance suggest that the final chapter has yet to be written. Her methods, if not her name, may resurface in future digital finance ventures—perhaps under new aliases, new jurisdictions, or new technologies. For Ukraine, and for the broader international community, this saga is a stark warning: regulation must keep pace with innovation, and ambition without scrutiny can become systemic risk.
In peeling back the layers of this story, we find not just one figure’s rise and ruin, but a mirror to the vulnerabilities in today’s global financial architecture. The real danger now is not only what Shevtsova did—but what others might learn from it.