A Mexican billionaire was tricked into lending $400 million to a group of con artists — one of whom passed himself off as a descendant of the 19th century fur trader John Jacob Astor.
Ricardo Salinas Pliego, the owner of the telecommunications conglomerate Grupo Salinas, told the Wall Street Journal that he thought he had found the perfect lending partner when he needed to finance a large Bitcoin investment in 2021.
Instead, he was duped into a “loan-to-own” scheme that wiped out out nearly a quarter of his net worth.
“I feel like an absolute idiot. How could I fall for this?” Salinas Pliego, 69, told the Journal.
Salinas Pliego, whose net worth approached $16 billion at the peak of his wealth, had pledged shares in his company, Grupo Elektra, as collateral in the fraudulent loan scheme.
Grupo Electro shares plunged 71% in a single day in July 2024 after investor confidence was rattled by news that his company fell victim to fraud.
The collapse wiped $5.5 billion from his fortune, part of a broader $4 billion drop in Elektra’s market value triggered by the systematic sale of his shares under the “loan-to-own” arrangement allegedly orchestrated by Ukrainian-born American fraudster Vladimir Sklarov.
Salinas Pliego’s journey into this financial nightmare began when he sought to expand his cryptocurrency holdings by borrowing $400 million against his stake in Grupo Elektra, the retail and banking empire his father established in 1950.
Through a Swiss financial adviser, he connected with Astor Capital Fund, which claimed prestigious lineage to the legendary New York family that once produced America’s richest man.
Salinas Pliego’s stock collateral worth over $400 million had vanished, sold off by Sklarov, who had masqueraded as “Gregory Mitchell” while his accomplice posed as an Astor family descendant, according to the Journal.
Property records indicate that as part of the alleged scheme, Sklarov’s lawyer and longtime associate appears to have covertly funneled Salinas’s money into a series of high-end real estate purchases across the United States and Europe.
The acquisitions included a $6.45 million penthouse in New York overlooking Central Park, a $2.67 million mansion in Virginia purchased under the lawyer’s name and a $6 million château in France registered to Sklarov’s wife, according to the news site Currency.
The portfolio was rounded out by two villas located in the affluent Greek suburbs of Marousi and Ekali.
The operation appeared legitimate from every angle. During video conferences, a man identifying himself as Thomas Astor Mellon joined calls from a yacht, speaking with an authentic American accent and presenting himself as both the company’s chief executive and a descendant of the famous Astor lineage.
The firm’s materials referenced the illustrious history of German-born fur trader John Jacob Astor, who died in 1848 as America’s wealthiest individual and whose family dominated Gilded Age society.
Astor Capital’s professional presentation included attractive loan terms at just 1.15% interest and documentation bearing the official seal of a regal lion.
The company even maintained a polished website featuring a promotional video showing professionals entering branded offices, complete with imagery of a lion statue and narration about building on principles established by John Jacob Astor’s financial empire.
The reality behind this facade proved far more sinister. Investigators later revealed that “Thomas Astor Mellon” was actually Alexey Skachkov, a resident of the former Soviet republic of Georgia with a criminal history including prescription forgery and jewelry theft.
The primary architect of the scheme, however, was Sklarov, a Ukrainian-born fraudster who had operated under numerous aliases including “Mark Simon Bentley” in addition to his Mitchell persona.
Sklarov’s criminal background stretched back decades, including prison time for masterminding an $18 million Medicare fraud in the 1990s involving companies billing for uncovered surgical dressings.
After serving his sentence, he had built a substantial Midwest real estate portfolio that eventually collapsed amid litigation and loan defaults, leading to his divorce and a desperate advertisement in Crain’s Detroit Business seeking new opportunities.
The fraudster had reinvented himself multiple times, legally changing his name from Vladimir to Val in 2006 to avoid what he claimed was discrimination, and later adopting the Bentley moniker because he “liked the automobile.”
Court records show he established operations across multiple jurisdictions, creating same-name companies in various countries and requiring dispute arbitration in obscure financial centers like Jamaica and Nevis.
Warning signals emerged gradually. Salinas Pliego’s financial lieutenant, Eduardo González Salceda Sánchez, first noticed unusual trading activity in Elektra shares during fall 2021, suspicious because the stock typically experienced minimal trading volume.
Despite these concerns, the billionaire’s team maintained faith in their lending partner, particularly after visiting what appeared to be legitimate Astor offices in New York City, complete with branded materials and a professional receptionist.
The scheme’s collapse accelerated when Salceda Sánchez requested independent verification that the pledged shares remained in Salinas Pliego’s custody account.
Rather than providing proof, Astor Capital claimed the inquiry constituted forbidden interference and asserted unrestricted rights over the collateral.
When the London broker involved in arranging the deal questioned whether Astor was short-selling the stock, “Mitchell” responded dismissively that borrowing shares represented normal market operations, according to the Journal.
Salinas Pliego’s attempt to prepay the loan in July 2024 triggered the final phase of the fraud.
Three weeks later, Astor Capital issued a default notice citing eleven violations, including the verification request, allegedly late interest payments and a Mexican government investigation into some of Salinas Pliego’s companies.
Legal filings cited by the Journal reveal that Salinas Pliego represented just one victim in a much larger operation.
Sklarov allegedly controlled approximately three-quarters of a billion dollars worth of stock from multiple borrowers across the United States, United Kingdom and Asia over several years.
His victims included other wealthy executives who fell for similar schemes involving companies with prestigious names like Cornelius Vanderbilt Capital Management, Shearson Lehman and Bentley Rothschild.
The fraud exploited a legitimate but loosely regulated corner of finance known as securities-based lending, where wealthy individuals can access cash without selling their stock holdings.
While major Swiss and American banks dominate this market, estimated by Deloitte at $4.3 trillion globally, opportunities exist for less scrupulous operators to exploit borrowers seeking alternative funding sources.
Salinas Pliego’s legal team has launched an aggressive recovery campaign, obtaining a court order freezing $400 million in London commercial court and applying for access to US bank records to trace proceeds from the share sales.
Their investigation uncovered the complex money flows underlying the scheme, including nearly $300 million moving through accounts controlled by Sklarov’s New York attorney before returning to offshore entities.
The fraudster, now living in Greece with his family and reportedly owning multiple properties plus a yacht recently renamed “Enchantment,” continues to deny wrongdoing.
In his defense, Sklarov told the Journal that he operates in the high-risk lending market and maintains that borrowers understood their stock could be lent to other parties.
He argues that Astor Capital only promised not to sell shares directly on public exchanges, leaving room for transfers to third parties who might then execute sales.
Despite his vast wealth, Salinas Pliego expressed genuine embarrassment about falling victim to the scheme.
“On the one hand it makes me look like an absolute idiot,” Salinas Pliego told the Journal when asked about his his legal campaign to claw back the money.
“On the other hand I feel like something needs to be done.”