Zondacrypto’s Withdrawal Crisis
What Zondacrypto’s Withdrawal Crisis, a Century of Financial Panics, and the Psychology of Sunk Costs Tell Us About Getting Your Money Back
By Robert Nogacki
They come in every day now. The sums range from a few thousand to a million zloty — tens of thousands to a quarter of a million dollars. The stories, with minor variations in the ratio of frustration to panic, are identical: they tried to withdraw their money from zondacrypto, Poland’s largest cryptocurrency exchange, and the exchange said no. Not directly — directly would be easy to challenge. Instead, the exchange says not yet and offers a reason that sounds like a reason: an AML verification, an expired document, a vaguely described technical problem. Any single case looks like a delay. It is only when you lay a dozen of them side by side that a pattern emerges — one that does not resemble a compliance procedure. It resembles a liquidity-management strategy.
My firm, Kancelaria Prawna Skarbiec, is handling more than a dozen such cases simultaneously. This article grows out of their analysis, but it is more than a legal guide. It is an attempt to place what is happening at Poland’s largest crypto exchange in a historical, financial, and psychological context — because the history of exchange failures tells us not only what clients can expect but also why most of them will do precisely what they shouldn’t, and why those who understand this recover more.
Under E.U. law, Polish clients of zondacrypto retain full consumer protection regardless of the Estonian choice-of-law clause in the platform’s terms. Article 6 of the Rome I Regulation prevents a choice-of-law clause from stripping a consumer of their home jurisdiction’s mandatory protections — a principle confirmed by Poland’s Supreme Court in 2014. Article 18 of Brussels I bis gives consumers a choice of forum: sue in Poland or in Estonia. These are not theoretical instruments. We use them in every case.
I. AML as Pretext — Anatomy of a Blockade
The Script
A client places a withdrawal order — Polish zloty to a bank account, or cryptocurrency to an external wallet. The order is accepted. Minutes or hours later, it is cancelled. The system generates a terse message: “Your withdrawal has been cancelled. Contact us for more information.” Then comes the e-mail, from the AML department, requesting income-tax returns going back four to six years.
The client has already completed every verification step the platform requires — identity confirmed, address confirmed, anti-money-laundering questionnaire submitted. The dashboard shows “Completed” in reassuring green beside each item. But it turns out that none of this is sufficient. A verification process, the e-mail claims, was initiated several years ago; nobody mentioned it until the client tried to leave. For those several years, the exchange accepted the client’s deposits without objection — hundreds of thousands of zloty, in some cases. Doubts materialized only at the moment of departure.
Meanwhile, the exchange does not freeze trading. The client can buy and sell crypto all day long, convert it to zloty. What is blocked is every outbound operation: fiat withdrawals, crypto transfers to external wallets, moves to another exchange. You can check in any time you like, but you can never leave. Zondacrypto is delighted to accept transactions that deepen its hold on client assets. It simply declines to execute the ones that would require releasing them.
The Empty Wallet
The most valuable document in our files is a customer-support message dated April 7, 2026. Its author — inadvertently, one suspects — tells the truth. The technical team, the message explains, is struggling with a problem affecting withdrawals across all cryptocurrencies. The hot wallet is not automatically selecting funds; withdrawals are falling into “confirming” or “rejected” status. Funds are being manually gathered by the technical department from deposit addresses for each individual withdrawal. The exchange cannot confirm a date for resolution.
A functioning cryptocurrency exchange processes withdrawals automatically, from a pre-funded operational wallet, in minutes. When an exchange must manually scrape funds from deposit addresses — the addresses where client money initially lands after a transfer — for each individual outbound transaction, it means one thing: the hot wallet is empty or critically underfunded. On-chain analysis by Recoveris, published by money.pl and Rzeczpospolita, corroborated this: operational Bitcoin reserves collapsed from approximately 55 BTC in August 2024 to 0.086 BTC as of April 1, 2026 — a decline of 99.7%. The exchange does not have operational reserves sufficient to meet its obligations as they fall due.
This is precisely the pattern that preceded the collapses of Celsius and FTX. Precisely.
Procedural Perpetual Motion
In some cases, the mechanism is more refined still. The system cancels a withdrawal order. Thirty-three minutes later — we have it documented to the minute — it generates a demand for identity re-verification, citing an expired document. The cancelled order ceases to exist in the system. The client, once re-verified, must place a new order with a new unique identifier (UUID), which enters the processing queue at the back — not in the position of the one it replaced.
Each cycle — cancellation, re-verification, new order — pushes the client weeks further from actual payment, without the exchange ever formally refusing the withdrawal. The system appears to work: orders are accepted, verifications are conducted, the progress bar inches forward. But the withdrawal never materializes. It is a machine built to produce the appearance of process without the inconvenience of result.
Why This Is Not AML
Estonia’s Money Laundering and Terrorist Financing Prevention Act (RahaPTS) requires regulated entities to monitor their business relationships with clients — proportionately, continuously, on the basis of current knowledge about the client’s risk profile. Monitoring is not a retrospective tax audit launched after six years, solely when the client attempts a withdrawal. Finantsinspektsioon’s guidelines.pdf) specify that source-of-funds verification may involve bank statements or income documentation — not multi-year tax filings as a precondition for releasing a client’s own money. (A separate concern: the exchange’s AML department requests highly sensitive tax documents without providing the information required under Article 13 of the GDPR — the identity of the data controller, the purpose and legal basis for processing, the recipients of the data, and the retention period.) Even Polish banks, supervised under one of Europe’s more rigorous oversight regimes, do not demand anything comparable.
In a genuine AML procedure, a financial institution either freezes the account or flags a specific transaction — and notifies the regulator: the RAB in Estonia, the GIIF in Poland. Estonian law requires that report to be filed without delay, no later than two business days after identifying the suspicion. Conducting an “AML verification” for months or years without filing any such report is itself a legal violation. Either zondacrypto failed to report — a breach — or it reported and the RAB did not order the account frozen, meaning the regulator saw no basis for the blockade the exchange is maintaining on its own initiative.
A selective block on withdrawals alone — no report to the RAB, no account freeze, no notification to any authority — has no basis in any AML framework in the European Union. Its logic runs in the wrong direction. Real compliance protects the financial system from accepting dirty money. It does not prevent an exchange from returning a client’s own.
II. What the History of Exchange Collapses Teaches
The history of liquidity crises in crypto markets is short — barely a decade — but dense with data, and the data tell a consistent story. The range of outcomes is extreme: from thirteen cents on the dollar to a hundred and twenty. Three variables explain the difference: whether recoverable assets existed, whether the insolvency professionals were competent, and how early creditors acted.
FTX: A Hundred and Nineteen Per Cent — with an Asterisk
FTX collapsed in November, 2022, after it emerged that its founder, Sam Bankman-Fried — a twenty-something in a T-shirt who had convinced Congress, regulators, and institutional investors that he was the responsible architect of a new financial system — had been secretly diverting billions in customer deposits to his affiliated hedge fund, Alameda Research. The SEC complaint established the mechanism, elegant in its simplicity: a backdoor in FTX’s code, the so-called allow negative flag, permitted Alameda to withdraw from the exchange even when its account was in deficit — an unlimited, undisclosed line of credit funded by the deposits of unsuspecting customers. The money went to speculative trades, Bahamian real estate, venture investments, and political donations. When clients demanded six billion dollars in withdrawals within seventy-two hours, the accounts were nine billion short.
Bankman-Fried was sentenced to twenty-five years. His appeal to the Second Circuit — where, in November, 2025, a three-judge panel reacted to the defense arguments with visible skepticism — remains pending.
The bankruptcy administrator, John J. Ray III — the same lawyer who had previously wound down Enron, and who described FTX’s state of affairs as unlike anything in his career, noting a “complete absence of trustworthy financial information” — achieved extraordinary results. Ninety-eight per cent of creditors received a hundred and nineteen per cent of their claim value. Total recoveries: $14.5 to $16.3 billion. The fourth distribution round — $2.2 billion — took place on March 31, 2026.
But there is a catch, and it is not a small one. Claims were valued in dollars at the bankruptcy filing date: November, 2022. Bitcoin was trading at roughly sixteen thousand dollars. A creditor who lost one Bitcoin received approximately nineteen thousand in cash — a hundred and nineteen per cent of the claim. Except that the Bitcoin itself, by early 2025, was worth over a hundred thousand. Formally: a recovery with interest. In reality: a fraction of the foregone gains. The Delaware bankruptcy court approved this methodology. A different court, in the Genesis case, reached the opposite conclusion and permitted in-kind crypto repayment — allowing creditors to capture the full price appreciation.
This valuation-date problem — whether a creditor receives the asset they lost or its dollar equivalent from the worst possible day — is the single most consequential legal variable for any exchange client. It is worth keeping in mind as you read the rest of this article.
Mt. Gox: A Decade, but Bitcoin in Kind
Mt. Gox once processed seventy per cent of global Bitcoin transactions before it was discovered, in 2014, that approximately eight hundred and fifty thousand Bitcoin had been leaking from its systems for years. The theft was not a single breach but a slow hemorrhage stretching back to 2011: hackers gained access to the hot wallet, and an internal exploit generated fictitious dollar balances that enabled successive withdrawals from the exchange’s reserves. Nobody noticed for three years.
The rehabilitation proceeding — not a bankruptcy, and the distinction is critical — has been running for twelve years. Approximately nineteen thousand five hundred creditors have received payments in actual Bitcoin and Bitcoin Cash. Roughly thirty-four thousand seven hundred BTC remain on the wallets of trustee Nobuaki Kobayashi — approximately four billion dollars. The distribution deadline: October, 2026.
The lesson of Mt. Gox is fundamental, and it applies directly to zondacrypto’s clients: the choice of legal regime determines the outcome more than any other single factor. Had Mt. Gox been liquidated in 2014 — its Bitcoin sold at six hundred dollars apiece — creditors would have received perhaps twenty per cent of their claims, in yen. Conversion to a rehabilitation proceeding preserved the Bitcoin in the estate and allowed in-kind distribution at prices above ninety thousand dollars. The difference between twenty cents on the dollar and a near-complete recovery was produced by one procedural decision made twelve years ago.
Celsius: The Click That Cost $4.2 Billion
Celsius promised its clients eighteen to twenty per cent annual returns on cryptocurrency deposits. To generate those returns, it aggressively rehypothecated client assets — pledging the same funds repeatedly across successive DeFi protocols, building invisible leverage. At least five hundred million dollars was parked in Terra’s Anchor protocol, which promised twenty per cent yields. When the UST stablecoin collapsed in May, 2022, Celsius managed to withdraw most of those funds during the crash, but suffered severe losses on the remaining exposure. Separately, the exchange lost approximately thirty-five thousand ETH when a staking provider misplaced private keys — a loss that was not disclosed to clients.
Celsius froze withdrawals in July, 2022, with a $1.2 billion deficit. And then came the moment that every zondacrypto client should study.
On January 4, 2023, Judge Martin Glenn, of the United States Bankruptcy Court for the Southern District of New York, ruled that the $4.2 billion deposited in Celsius Earn accounts — by six hundred thousand users who believed they were placing their assets in custody — had become property of the bankruptcy estate. Not client assets. Estate property. The basis? The platform’s Terms of Use — a standard clickwrap agreement, accepted in the fraction of a second it takes to tap “I Accept.” One click converted six hundred thousand owners into unsecured creditors, standing at the back of the line behind administrative costs, behind priority claims, behind secured lenders.
Worse followed. The estate’s litigation administrator filed thousands of lawsuits against former clients who had withdrawn more than a hundred thousand dollars in the ninety days before bankruptcy, seeking to claw back those funds into the estate for redistribution. Customers who had prudently withdrawn their money upon seeing warning signs were sued for having acted sooner than their fellow depositors. The irony is lethally precise: the only way to avoid being sued was to not withdraw. Which is to say, to do exactly what led to the loss.
Recovery: sixty-five to eighty-five per cent.
The Rest
QuadrigaCX, in Canada, collapsed in 2019 under circumstances that read like a screenplay by a writer unafraid of accusations of implausibility. Its founder, Gerald Cotten, died in India in December, 2018, as the sole human being holding the keys to the wallets containing client assets. The Ontario Securities Commission later determined that Cotten had been running a Ponzi scheme from the start: roughly a hundred and fifteen million dollars lost in fabricated trades on his own platform, twenty-eight million on external exchanges, twenty-four million misappropriated for personal expenses. Seventy-six thousand creditors recovered thirteen per cent. The lesson of Quadriga is not about fraud — fraud happens everywhere. It is about key-man risk: one person, zero backup procedures, no multi-signature requirement. No quantity of court orders will open a wallet whose key died with its owner.
Three Arrows Capital, a crypto hedge fund, invested two hundred million dollars in Luna tokens. When Terra collapsed, 3AC dragged down Voyager Digital (which had lent it $650 million unsecured), BlockFi (which had $355 million stuck on FTX), and Genesis Global — a cascade in which each successive insolvency revealed the hidden dependency of the next. Liquidators initially recovered only a fraction of a $3.3 billion debt. Courts froze $1.14 billion in assets belonging to the founders. BlockFi achieved a hundred per cent — the only full recovery in the history of exchange failures, produced by the exceptional legal work of Haynes Boone rather than by standard insolvency mechanics.
The common denominator: exchange customers in insolvency proceedings are, as a rule, unsecured creditors. They stand at the back of the line — behind administrative expenses, behind priority claims, behind secured lenders. Insolvency law, American (Absolute Priority Rule) and European alike, treats them as last to be satisfied. Those who act early recover more. Those who wait risk finding that the estate has been consumed by the queue ahead of them.
III. The Psychology of Waiting — Why Most Clients Will Do What They Shouldn’t
There is a reason that crypto exchanges in liquidity crises do not declare insolvency. Instead, they conduct individual “AML verifications,” promise to resolve “technical issues,” and assure clients that “funds are safe.” The reason is psychological, and its efficacy is empirically confirmed.
The sunk-cost fallacy. A client who has deposited five hundred thousand zloty and has been waiting weeks for a withdrawal does not want to hear that the money may be at risk. Each additional day of waiting increases the emotional investment — and decreases the willingness to take action that would require admitting the waiting was a mistake. The exchange understands this. Each support e-mail promising “priority treatment” and “work toward a resolution” adds another day to the client’s emotional investment.
The endowment effect. The client does not think of the balance on zondacrypto as a claim against an Estonian company of uncertain solvency. He thinks of it as his money, temporarily held. This difference in framing is fundamental: an owner waits patiently; a creditor acts.
Hope as strategy. In game theory, there is a concept called strategic optimism — a situation in which a player assigns favorable values to unknown variables despite having no basis for doing so. The zondacrypto client who does not know the state of the exchange’s reserves, does not know how many other clients are in the same position, and does not know the probability of MiCA licensing assumes — because the alternative is hard to accept — that the exchange “will sort it out somehow.” History says otherwise. Voyager Digital cut its withdrawal limit from twenty-five thousand to ten thousand dollars one week before bankruptcy. Celsius froze withdrawals one month before filing. FTX — two days.
The optimal strategy changes over time. When an exchange is functioning normally, the rational move is to wait. When it begins blocking withdrawals, the rational strategy shifts to immediate action — because each day of delay is a day in which other creditors may act faster. The preference clawbacks from Celsius demonstrate that even a successful withdrawal can later be challenged — but a withdrawal never attempted is, by definition, lost. The risk asymmetry is unambiguous: the cost of action (legal fees, time) is known and bounded; the cost of inaction (total loss of funds) is potentially infinite.
IV. Promises That Don’t Add Up
The Arithmetic No One Does
Law firms and recovery outfits have begun advertising “asset-freezing” services against zondacrypto. Before anyone pays for such a service, it is worth performing a simple exercise in arithmetic.
An interim-measures application under Polish procedural law requires identifying specific assets of the debtor on which a court can impose a lien. The question is: which assets?
Zondacrypto is BB Trade Estonia OÜ — an Estonian company operating under license FVT000209. Payments from Polish clients are processed by a separate Polish entity, TryPay S.A., based in Wrocław. Client crypto-assets are held — in theory — in wallets whose addresses the exchange does not disclose. A Proof of Reserves — an independent audit confirming that the exchange actually holds the assets it claims to hold — has been refused. The exchange reports a million users. The only public wallet that blockchain analysts have managed to identify contains funds representing a fraction of what the exchange should hold.
How do you freeze assets belonging to a company with a million clients and half a Bitcoin on its only known wallet? The law provides the tools. But tools work when there is something to seize.
Any offer of “guaranteed recovery” should be met with skepticism proportional to the guarantee.
July 1, 2026 — A Date That Cannot Be Moved
On July 1, 2026, every legacy Virtual Asset Service Provider license in Estonia expires. Zondacrypto must, by that date, obtain a new CASP license compliant with MiCA — or cease operating in the European Union. ESMA’s February, 2026, guidance noted that CASPs operating under transitional provisions should have orderly wind-down plans in place.
For clients, this means the window for effective legal action has a specific closing date. After a potential cessation of operations, enforcing judgments against an Estonian shell will be materially harder. Not impossible. Materially harder.
V. Why Zondacrypto Is on a Downhill Slope
A Technical Infrastructure That Doesn’t Meet MiCA or DORA
A reading of zondacrypto’s terms of service (January 1, 2026, version), its customer-support correspondence, and publicly available information yields the portrait of an entity whose technical and organizational infrastructure does not meet the requirements of either MiCA or DORA, the EU’s Digital Operational Resilience Act. This is not a minor regulatory technicality. It is the set of requirements the exchange must satisfy by July 1 in order to continue operating. For context: had exchanges like FTX or Celsius been subject to MiCA’s asset-segregation requirements, the fraud structures that destroyed them — Alameda’s line of credit, Celsius’s rehypothecation — would have been legally impossible. The New Zealand High Court’s landmark Cryptopia ruling established that crypto held in segregated custody is customer property, not estate property. MiCA codifies this principle for the entire EU. The question is whether zondacrypto can meet the standard.
Article 67 — client-asset safeguarding. The terms declare, in English: “zondacrypto does not use Customer funds for its own account. These funds are held solely for the purpose of executing Customer orders.” The exchange’s own support staff has confirmed that the hot wallet cannot process withdrawals automatically and that funds must be manually scraped from client deposit addresses. There are two possibilities, and neither is comforting: either the declaration is true and the operator is so profoundly incompetent that it cannot transfer assets it actually holds — a violation of Articles 66 and 75 of MiCA — or the declaration is false and client assets are not where the operator says they are, which is a violation of Article 67 and a potential ground for license revocation.
Article 75 — return of crypto-assets. “As soon as possible,” says Article 75(4). Twelve hours, says the terms of service. Weeks, with no committed date, says reality.
Article 66 + DORA — operational continuity. DORA requires financial entities — including CASPs — to maintain business-continuity plans, disaster-recovery procedures, operational-resilience testing, and ICT-incident reporting. A multi-day — reportedly multi-week — withdrawal-system failure, with no continuity plan, no communication of a restoration timeline, and manual processing as the sole fallback, constitutes material evidence of non-compliance. Not a suggestion of non-compliance. Material evidence.
Article 76 — fair trading conditions. The exchange maintains active trading while blocking all outbound operations. Clients can enter but cannot leave. The exchange collects commissions on the trading activity of clients whom it simultaneously prevents from realizing gains or protecting themselves from losses by withdrawing their assets.
Terms of Service Copied from Someone Else’s Filing
The governance tells are visible in the terms themselves. Chapter XIII, on platform availability, refers to a “Payment Operator” rather than to zondacrypto — suggesting the entire chapter was pasted from another company’s document without adaptation. The registered address in the terms (“office no. 10”) does not match the address in operational correspondence (“office no. 210”). These are, individually, minor details. But an entity that cannot keep its own office number consistent across two documents is not one you would expect to maintain the business-continuity plans, disaster-recovery procedures, and operational-resilience testing that MiCA and DORA demand.
Unfair Terms as a System
The terms contain provisions that, under Polish consumer-protection law and the EU’s Unfair Contract Terms Directive, are almost certainly unlawful — not as isolated drafting errors but as a mutually reinforcing system.
A “negative-interest deposit” mechanism charges minus twenty per cent per month on the initial balance. A client with ten thousand euros sees two thousand deducted each month. After five months, the balance is zero. The word “interest” is semantic camouflage: what is described is the systematic, automated confiscation of a client’s funds, spread over time solely so that it does not look like a one-time seizure.
The terms disclaim liability for exchange-rate losses during account suspensions. Withdrawal-fee schedules may be changed without any prior notice — the economic equivalent of freezing funds, achieved through the terms of service rather than through a system outage. Crypto-assets may be forcibly converted to fiat at undefined “market rates” upon contract termination — with no specified benchmark, no client verification mechanism, no client consent to a transaction that is simultaneously a taxable event.
The Backstory
Zondacrypto, formerly BitBay, was placed on Poland’s Financial Supervision Authority warning list in 2018. The company relocated to Malta, then to Estonia. In 2020, an investigative documentary by TVN — Poland’s largest private broadcaster — alleged connections between the exchange’s shareholders and individuals with criminal backgrounds. The exchange’s founder, Sylwester Suszek, disappeared in 2022 under circumstances linked to an active criminal investigation. On April 8, 2026, the National Prosecutor’s Office opened a formal investigation encompassing both the reserve allegations and their potential connection to Suszek’s disappearance. A Polish bill implementing MiCA was vetoed twice by the President of the Republic — a decision that opposition politicians connected to donations made to foundations affiliated with the former ruling coalition.
VI. The Second Fraud
Every client whose funds are stuck on a crypto exchange should expect what statistics suggest will almost certainly happen next: a phone call from someone offering to get the money back.
The psychology of this scam is precisely calibrated to the victim’s emotional state. A person who has just lost their savings experiences several cognitive burdens simultaneously: desperation (pressure toward any quick solution), confirmation bias (every promise of recovery is information they want to hear), loss of agency (someone offering help restores the feeling of control), and shame (the victim does not want to tell family about the loss and seeks a discreet resolution). The recovery scam targets this exact constellation of emotions.
The mechanism is banal. Data on affected exchange clients leaks or is sold on darknet markets. A firm contacts the victim, equipped with surprisingly detailed knowledge of their situation — which itself looks like competence. It offers rapid recovery for an advance fee: “operating costs,” “processing charges,” “tax on the refund.” Once the fee is paid, the firm vanishes. The global recovery rate for crypto-fraud proceeds is three to seven per cent. No private entity possesses tools that a court, a prosecutor, or a financial regulator does not.
The rule is simple and admits no exceptions: if someone contacts you with an offer to recover your funds — rather than the other way around — it is a fraud.
VII. What to Do
Immediately. Do not sell your crypto-assets at zondacrypto’s depressed internal prices. The price on an exchange whose clients cannot withdraw is, by definition, not a market price — because no one who could arbitrage the difference has the ability to move assets off the platform. Every conversion generates a real loss and brings you no closer to withdrawal. Preserve screenshots of your portfolio, all correspondence with support, and every system notification.
Week one. File a formal complaint with BB Trade Estonia OÜ under the Polish Consumer Rights Act. Failure to respond within fourteen days constitutes acceptance. File a parallel complaint with UOKiK, Poland’s consumer-protection authority.
Weeks two and three. File a complaint with Finantsinspektsioon, citing specific MiCA violations. Consider a report to the Estonian RAB if the exchange is conducting an “AML verification” without having notified the financial-intelligence unit within the statutory two-business-day window.
If there is no response. Civil suit in a Polish court with an application for interim measures — jurisdiction under Article 18(1) of Brussels I bis. In cases suggesting misappropriation: criminal complaint under Article 284(2) of the Polish Penal Code.
Unconditionally. Do not respond to any offer to “recover your funds” from an entity you did not contact yourself. It is a recovery scam. Every time, without exception.
Robert Nogacki – licensed legal counsel (radca prawny, WA-9026), Founder of Kancelaria Prawna Skarbiec.
There are lawyers who practice law. And there are those who deal with problems for which the law has no ready answer. For over twenty years, Kancelaria Skarbiec has worked at the intersection of tax law, corporate structures, and the deeply human reluctance to give the state more than the state is owed. We advise entrepreneurs from over a dozen countries – from those on the Forbes list to those whose bank account was just seized by the tax authority and who do not know what to do tomorrow morning.
One of the most frequently cited experts on tax law in Polish media – he writes for Rzeczpospolita, Dziennik Gazeta Prawna, and Parkiet not because it looks good on a résumé, but because certain things cannot be explained in a court filing and someone needs to say them out loud. Author of AI Decoding Satoshi Nakamoto: Artificial Intelligence on the Trail of Bitcoin’s Creator. Co-author of the award-winning book Bezpieczeństwo współczesnej firmy (Security of a Modern Company).
Kancelaria Skarbiec holds top positions in the tax law firm rankings of Dziennik Gazeta Prawna. Four-time winner of the European Medal, recipient of the title International Tax Planning Law Firm of the Year in Poland.
He specializes in tax disputes with fiscal authorities, international tax planning, crypto-asset regulation, and asset protection. Since 2006, he has led the WGI case – one of the longest-running criminal proceedings in the history of the Polish financial market – because there are things you do not leave half-done, even if they take two decades. He believes the law is too serious to be treated only seriously – and that the best legal advice is the kind that ensures the client never has to stand before a court.
