Exposé Uncovers Curaçao Casino Network Dodging UK Self-Exclusion Barriers and Luring Millions

A collaborative effort between the Guardian and Investigate Europe has exposed a sprawling network of at least eight unlicensed online casinos targeting UK players, operations run by Santeda International from Curaçao and tied to Georgian businessmen including Tornike Tvauri, Alexander Makashvili, and Mikheil Merebashvili; these platforms, such as MyStake, Velobet, and Goldenbet, operate without UK licenses yet draw massive traffic by sidestepping national safeguards. Revealed in early April 2026, the investigation details how these sites exploit regulatory gaps, pulling in an average of 2.3 million unique UK visitors each month from November 2025 through January 2026, figures that underscore their reach despite lacking approval from British authorities.

What's interesting is the setup: Santeda International bases its activities in Curaçao, a jurisdiction known for lighter oversight on gaming firms, and the probe traces ownership back to those Georgian figures who maintain low profiles but control multiple brands through interconnected companies. Observers note that such structures make enforcement tricky, since the casinos use mirrors, VPN-friendly designs, and aggressive marketing to stay accessible, even as UK players seek protection through self-exclusion tools.

And here's where it gets notable: the network doesn't just operate in the shadows; it actively markets bonuses, fast payouts, and live dealer games tailored for British users, all while ignoring tools like GamStop, the UK's national self-exclusion database launched to help problem gamblers block themselves from licensed sites.

These platforms bypass GamStop entirely, a scheme that covers all UK-licensed operators but leaves offshore sites untouched, so self-excluded players find themselves able to sign up, deposit, and play without barriers; data from the investigation shows MyStake alone attracting over 1 million UK visits monthly during the period studied, with Velobet and Goldenbet close behind, their combined pull creating a loophole that regulators have struggled to plug. Experts who've tracked similar networks point out that Curaçao-issued licenses, while legitimate there, don't align with stricter UK rules on player protections, advertising, and affordability checks.

Turns out the sites employ tactics like accepting UK payment methods, offering pound sterling accounts, and running promotions in English with UK sports betting options, making them feel local even as they operate far from British jurisdiction; one case highlighted involves players using mobile apps that auto-detect location but don't enforce exclusions, leading to seamless access for those who've opted out elsewhere.

But the real draw lies in the volume: 2.3 million unique visitors on average signals not casual browsers but engaged users wagering real money, often chasing high-stakes slots, roulette tables, or football bets without the limits imposed on licensed competitors.

Tragedy strikes at the heart of this exposé with the case of 36-year-old Ollie Long, whose death by suicide was ruled by a January 2026 inquest directly linked to gambling losses on unlicensed sites within this network; coroners noted how Long, previously self-excluded via GamStop, continued playing on platforms like those investigated, spiraling into debt that family members described as unstoppable due to the lack of barriers. Such outcomes aren't isolated, as researchers studying gambling addiction have long warned that unlicensed operators amplify risks by skipping mandatory interventions like deposit limits or reality checks.

People who've followed these patterns often discover that offshore casinos target vulnerable groups with personalized ads on social media and affiliate sites, bombarding self-excluded individuals with promises of "no limits" freedom; in Long's instance, records showed heavy activity on MyStake in the months before his death, underscoring how these networks contribute to broader harm, from financial ruin to mental health crises.

It's noteworthy that similar probes, like those from the Curaçao eGaming oversight body, have previously flagged operators for poor compliance, yet enforcement remains patchy, allowing networks to regenerate under new domains when pressure mounts.

Software provider Upgaming, which powered games on several Santeda sites, moved swiftly to sever connections after the April 2026 revelations, a decision that highlights how suppliers face reputational risks when linked to rogue operators; the company confirmed the split publicly, stating it prioritizes ethical partnerships, and this action disrupted backend services for at least some brands in the network. Observers tracking the iGaming sector see this as a pattern where tech firms distance themselves once exposures hit mainstream press, but the casinos quickly pivot to alternative providers from Eastern Europe or Asia.

So while Upgaming's exit stings, the network's resilience shows through domain migrations and rebrands, tactics that keep visitor numbers steady; data indicates traffic barely dipped post-revelation, with UK uniques holding above 2 million monthly into early 2026.

Calls for tougher measures echo across the industry, with stakeholders urging cross-border cooperation to mirror tools like those used by the Malta Gaming Authority, which enforces self-exclusion across EU-facing sites and shares intelligence on high-risk operators.

Yet the probe lays bare ongoing challenges: Curaçao's framework, managed under government control rather than a dedicated gaming board since 2023 reforms, often issues licenses to entities with opaque ownership, enabling Georgian-linked groups like Santeda's backers to thrive; those who've studied transnational gambling note that without unified blacklists or payment blocks, UK visitors remain exposed, especially since cards and e-wallets process transactions seamlessly to offshore destinations.

One study from the National Council on Problem Gambling in the US reveals parallels, where unlicensed sites drew 15% of at-risk players despite domestic protections, a stat that resonates with the 2.3 million UK figure and prompts questions about global strategies like IP blocking or mandatory ISP filters.

Now, as April 2026 unfolds, the story fuels debates on tightening ad rules and empowering payment providers to flag suspicious flows, measures that bodies in Australia and Canada have tested with mixed success; for UK players, the ball's in their court to verify licenses, but networks like this one make that harder than it sounds.

This Guardian-Investigate Europe uncover shakes the foundations of online gambling oversight, spotlighting how Santeda International's eight-site empire, helmed from Curaçao by Tornike Tvauri, Alexander Makashvili, Mikheil Merebashvili, and associates, funnels 2.3 million UK visitors monthly past GamStop defenses while fueling harms exemplified by Ollie Long's inquest-linked suicide; Upgaming's tie-cut offers a glimmer, yet the network endures, pressing for innovations in enforcement that span jurisdictions. Data underscores the scale, and as responses evolve, players and watchdogs alike monitor whether gaps close before more tragedies unfold, a reminder that offshore shadows cast long over licensed landscapes.