
An investigation by The Guardian and Investigate Europe has spotlighted a sprawling network of at least eight unlicensed online casinos; sites like MyStake, Velobet, and Goldenbet sit at the center, all run by Santeda International and tied to Upgaming along with Georgian businessmen such as Tornike Tvauri, while these platforms zeroed in on UK gamblers, drawing a staggering 2.3 million unique monthly visitors from the UK between November 2025 and January 2026.
What's interesting here is how these operations flew under the radar for so long, exploiting gaps in self-exclusion tools like GamStop by deploying AI-generated fake identities to cloak their Curaçao roots; affiliates pushed promotions that flat-out encouraged players to dodge those barriers, turning what should be a protective shield into Swiss cheese.
Researchers behind the probe dug deep into traffic data and corporate trails, uncovering links that stretch from Tbilisi boardrooms to Caribbean licensing facades; Santeda International, registered in Curaçao, funnels operations through a web of entities, while Upgaming provides the backend tech that keeps slots spinning and bets flowing for British users seeking an end-run around restrictions.
Take the visitor stats: 2.3 million unique UK users per month over those key winter months signals massive reach, far beyond what licensed operators typically see without heavy ad spends; these sites lured players with flashy bonuses, rapid payouts, and a promise of uninterrupted play, even for those who'd signed up to GamStop in a bid to curb their habits.
And here's where it gets tricky: GamStop, the UK's national self-exclusion service, blocks access to regulated sites, but unlicensed ones from Curaçao slip right through since they operate outside UK jurisdiction; data from the investigation shows affiliates marketing these platforms as "GamStop-free zones," complete with guides on VPNs and mirror sites to keep the action going.
One case highlighted involves MyStake, where UK traffic spiked amid aggressive SEO tactics and social media blasts tailored to British tastes—think Premier League-themed slots and football betting specials—while Velobet and Goldenbet mirrored that playbook, stacking up visitors who might otherwise stay sidelined.

Turns out AI played a starring role in the deception; operators generated fake executives and compliance officers—complete with LinkedIn profiles and press releases—to mimic legitimacy, masking the true Curaçao base where licensing comes cheap and oversight lax compared to stricter regimes elsewhere.
According to details from the probe, these AI fakes popped up across corporate registries and marketing materials, fooling casual checks while affiliates raked in commissions by directing traffic; Upgaming's platform, known for powering Eastern European betting sites, supplied the software muscle, enabling seamless crypto deposits and instant withdrawals that kept UK players hooked.
Georgian connections run deep too: Tornike Tvauri and associates control key pieces, channeling funds through layered companies that obscure ownership; observers who've tracked similar setups note how this mirrors tactics seen in other unregulated markets, but with a laser focus on the lucrative UK audience post-Brexit regulatory shifts.
Labour MP Alex Ballinger and Conservative MP Iain Duncan Smith didn't mince words, urging the Gambling Commission to crack down hard on this network amid the April 2026 revelations; Ballinger highlighted the betrayal of vulnerable players, while Duncan Smith pointed to systemic failures letting unlicensed sites thrive.
These cross-party calls echo broader concerns, as figures from the investigation peg annual economic costs from gambling harm at £1 billion to £2 billion in the UK alone—lost productivity, NHS strains, and debt spirals that hit families hard; yet the politicians stressed immediate blocks on payment processors and domain seizures to stem the tide.
Ballinger, in particular, referenced GamStop's limitations against offshore operators, pushing for international cooperation; Duncan Smith, a long-time campaigner on problem gambling, warned that without action, the network could expand, preying on more self-excluded users desperate for access.
While the spotlight falls on UK impacts, similar unlicensed networks have drawn scrutiny elsewhere; for instance, the European Gaming and Betting Association has documented how Curaçao-licensed sites evade EU protections, mirroring the AI cloaking and affiliate schemes uncovered here.
Data indicates these operations cost Europe billions yearly in untaxed revenue and player harms, much like the UK estimates; researchers note that Georgia's lax corporate laws fuel such ventures, exporting risks to markets with stronger consumer safeguards.
One study from Australian regulators, tracking cross-border flows, found comparable visitor evasion tactics, where self-exclusion databases prove porous against offshore tech; those patterns underscore why MPs like Ballinger demand coordinated takedowns, blending local enforcement with global intel-sharing.
November 2025 through January 2026 marked peak infiltration: 2.3 million UK uniques monthly across the eight sites, with MyStake leading at over 800,000 visits some months; analytics tools revealed 70% of traffic from self-excluded profiles, a red flag ignored by the platforms' aggressive onboarding.
But here's the thing—affiliates amplified it all, earning up to 50% revenue share by posting bypass tutorials on forums and Telegram channels; Goldenbet's crypto-heavy model appealed to privacy seekers, while Velobet's sports focus tapped football fever, blending seamlessly into UK betting culture.
Corporate veils thinned under scrutiny too: Santeda International's Curaçao filings listed AI-crafted directors, but cross-checks tied them to Tvauri's Georgian holdings; Upgaming servers, geolocked for compliance elsewhere, opened wide for UK IPs, fueling the month's record traffic.
Estimates of £1bn-£2bn in yearly gambling harm costs paint a stark picture—productivity dips, mental health crises, bankruptcy waves—all exacerbated by networks like this one slipping through cracks; MPs Ballinger and Duncan Smith framed their April 2026 pleas around these numbers, demanding payment blocks akin to those used against Russian sanctions evaders.
Experts who've studied offshore gambling observe that Curaçao's eGaming regime, while reformed recently, still lags behind bodies like Malta's MGA; that gap lets operators like Santeda thrive, targeting high-value markets until exposed.
People affected often share stories of spiraling debts from "just one more bet" on these sites, underscoring why swift regulatory moves matter now, before visitor counts climb further.
The Guardian and Investigate Europe's April 2026 exposé lays bare a calculated assault on UK safeguards, with Santeda International's eight-site empire—bolstered by Upgaming tech, Georgian backers, and AI deceptions—pulling in millions of visits while dodging GamStop; MPs Ballinger and Duncan Smith's urgent calls highlight the £1bn-£2bn harm toll, pressing for blocks that could dismantle it fast.
What's significant is the blueprint revealed: affiliates bypassing exclusions, offshore shields holding firm until probed; as data flows in, regulators face a test—seal the gaps, or watch the network regroup. Observers tracking these fights know the ball's in enforcement's court now, with UK players caught in the crossfire until action lands.
This story, unfolding in real time, reminds everyone how global webs challenge local rules; yet coordinated strikes have toppled similar setups before, offering hope amid the shadows.