How a 15-year-old’s digital crime spree unraveled into violence, lawsuits, and an unlikely quest for redemption
The Midnight Heist That Shook Crypto
One January night in 2018, millionaire crypto founder Michael Turpin checked his accounts and discovered $24 million had vanished. Across the country, a group of teens had hijacked his phone number, infiltrated his emails, and drained his cryptocurrency wallets. The mastermind? Ellis Pinsky, a 15-year-old from New York who’d honed his skills on gaming forums.
By dawn, Pinsky controlled 562 bitcoins. He hid $100,000 in cash under his bed and bought a luxury watch. But his victory was short-lived. Within months, the FBI tracked his digital footprints, masked gunmen stormed his home, and a $22 million lawsuit loomed.
From Gamer to Cyber Criminal
Pinsky’s journey began in a cramped Manhattan apartment. At 13, he traded chess trophies for Xbox battles, mastering Call of Duty and online trash-talking. A chilling question from a rival gamer, “How’s the weather in Irvington?” sparked his obsession with hacking.
Using tools like Wireshark, he learnt to trace IP addresses. By 14, he’d joined OGUsers, a forum for trading stolen social media accounts. “I wanted power,” he later admitted. But rare Instagram handles bored him. Soon, he pivoted to SIM swapping, a scam that would net millions.
Anatomy of a SIM Swap Scam
SIM swapping exploits a simple weakness: human trust. Hackers bribe telecom employees to transfer a victim’s phone number to a new SIM card. Suddenly, they control texts, two-factor authentication codes, and password resets.
Pinsky’s team scripted this process. They scraped Turpin’s emails for crypto wallet keys, stumbling on a $900 million Ethereum cache password-protected. Undeterred, they syphoned $24 million from a less-secured account. “It felt like a game,” Pinsky said. “Until it wasn’t.”
A Lavish Lifestyle Unravels
Flush with stolen crypto, Pinsky splurged on Rolexes, private jets, and VIP nights at New York clubs. At the same time, accomplices turned on each other. One fled with $1.5 million; another plotted a hitman.
But carelessness doomed them. A co-conspirator, Nick Truglia, flaunted wealth on social media, posting, “Stole $24M. Still can’t keep a friend” and used his real name on Coinbase. By 2020, Truglia faced prison. Pinsky, a minor, returned most funds but dodged charges. Turpin wasn’t satisfied.
Legal Reckoning and Lingering Threats
In May 2020, four masked men broke into Pinsky’s suburban home, demanding crypto. He barricaded his brothers upstairs, clutching a shotgun. “I knew why they came,” he recalled. The invaders found only his mother’s Ugg boots in the safe.
Turpin’s lawsuit escalated, seeking $71 million under racketeering laws. “These kids think it’s a game,” Turpin fumed. Pinsky’s defence? Cooperation. He surrendered assets, but crashing crypto values left Turpin with pennies on the dollar.
Seeking Redemption in Code and Philosophy
Today, Pinsky studies computer science and philosophy at NYU. He avoids his hometown, where whispers of “Baby Al Capone” linger. “I’d run from my 15-year-old self,” he admits.
He codes apps like Rentr, a peer-to-peer rental platform, and eyes startups. “I want to add value now,” he says. Yet shadows remain: lawsuits, surveillance fears, and the guilt of endangering his family. “Shame isn’t useful,” he reflects. “But accountability is.”
Epilogue: A Hacker’s Second Act
Pinsky’s story mirrors crypto’s wild volatility, a meteoric rise and brutal crash. Once driven by ego, he now seeks anonymity. “I’m done with that life,” he insists. Whether the world agrees hinges on his next move: innovator or cautionary tale. For now, he’s just a student with a shotgun-sized secret and a debt he may never outrun.
