Imagine stashing away a million dollars in gold bars and Rolexes, thinking you’ve gotten away clean, only to have the government kick the door in six years later and take it all without a criminal trial. That’s exactly what just happened to one of the most controversial figures in crypto history.
Last week, the province of British Columbia quietly walked away with roughly $1 million in assets linked to Michael Patryn, better known in certain circles as Michael Patryn or, if you go back far enough, Omar Dhanani. If those names ring a bell, it’s because Patryn was the co-founder of QuadrigaCX, Canada’s biggest crypto exchange disaster that still leaves a bitter taste in a lot of mouths.
The Seizure That Nobody Saw Coming
On paper, this was a civil forfeiture case, not a criminal one. That distinction matters hugely. British Columbia used its unexplained wealth order regime, a tool that flips the script: instead of the state having to prove you committed a crime, you have to prove the cash and gold came from legitimate sources. Patryn apparently couldn’t, or simply didn’t want to try. He withdrew his initial challenge and let the default judgment go through.
So what exactly did they take?
- Three 1-kilogram gold bars
- Forty-two smaller gold bars
- Several high-end Rolex and Chanel watches
- Designer jewelry and rings
- Cash (exact amount sealed by the court)
- Multiple sets of identity documents
- One Ruger 1911 .45-caliber pistol with loaded magazines
All of it was sitting in a Vancouver CIBC safety deposit box that the RCMP raided back in 2021. The box wasn’t even in Patryn’s name, classic op-sec, but the paper trail eventually pointed straight to him.
Why This Feels Like a Movie Script
Let’s be honest, the whole Quadriga saga already reads like a Netflix limited series that writes itself: mysterious death in India, lost private keys, $190 million CAD vanished into thin air, and a co-founder with a colorful past in identity theft rings. The fact that authorities are still pulling gold bars out of bank vaults in 2025 almost feels surreal.
Yet here we are. While Gerald Cotten took the “only I have the keys” secret to his grave (or wherever he actually is, depending on which conspiracy theory you prefer), Patryn has been living overseas, last known address Thailand, and seemingly convinced the storm had passed.
It hadn’t.
A Quick Refresher on the Quadriga Debacle
For those who weren’t around in 2019 or have mercifully blocked it out: QuadrigaCX was Canada’s largest crypto exchange by volume. When CEO Gerald Cotten died suddenly in India at age 30, the company announced that he, and he alone, held the private keys to the cold wallets. Roughly $190 million in customer funds, gone. Poof.
Later investigations by the Ontario Securities Commission and Ernst & Young (the bankruptcy trustee) painted a much uglier picture. Cotten had been running what regulators called a Ponzi-like scheme since at least 2016, using new deposits to pay withdrawals while siphoning millions for personal trading accounts, real estate, private jets, and luxury everything.
And Michael Patryn? Officially he was just the “tech guy” who left the company in 2016. Unofficially, investigators say he stayed deeply involved and personally benefited from diverted client funds.
“Patryn played a central role in the exchange’s operations and benefited from client funds.”
British Columbia Civil Forfeiture Office filing
The Criminal History Nobody Talks About Anymore
Here’s the part that always makes my jaw drop. Before he was Michael Patryn, he was Omar Dhanani. In the early 2000s, under that name, he ran Shadowcrew, one of the largest identity-theft and stolen-credit-card forums on the dark web of its day. He pleaded guilty in the U.S., served 18 months, got deported to Canada, changed his name legally twice, and somehow ended up co-founding the country’s biggest crypto exchange.
No, seriously. That actually happened.
When the story broke in 2019, many of us in the industry just stared at our screens wondering how due-diligence checks missed that. Turns out they didn’t miss it, people knew, they just looked the other way because the money was flowing.
Unexplained Wealth Orders: The Tool Everyone Is Watching
British Columbia’s unexplained wealth regime is still relatively new and incredibly powerful. Think of it as civil asset forfeiture on steroids, but with better optics. The province doesn’t need a criminal conviction, just reasonable grounds to believe the assets are proceeds of unlawful activity or were used to commit one.
Patryn’s team initially tried to fight on constitutional grounds, Charter rights, privacy, the usual playbook, but somewhere along the line they folded. That silence speaks volumes.
Other provinces and even the federal government are eyeing similar legislation. If this case sets precedent, expect a lot more safety-deposit-box raids in the coming years.
Will Victims Actually See Any Money?
That’s the million-dollar question (pun intended).
When Quadriga’s bankruptcy wrapped up in 2023, creditors received roughly 13 cents on the dollar after the trustee clawed back whatever they could. Most people wrote the rest off as gone forever.
Now the B.C. Director of Civil Forfeiture says they’ll review whether any of these seized assets can be redirected to victims. It’s not automatic, there’s a separate legal process, but for the first time in years there’s actual hope.
I’ve spoken to a few Quadriga victims over the years. Some lost life savings. Others borrowed money to “invest” at the peak. The psychological toll has been brutal. Even a partial recovery at this stage would mean the world to them.
The Bigger Picture for Crypto Regulation
Love it or hate it, cases like this are why regulators keep tightening the screws. Every time a major fraud blows up, the knee-jerk reaction is more rules, more KYC, more reporting.
I’m not here to defend fraudsters, far from it, but I do worry we’re creating an environment where only the already-compliant mega-exchanges can survive. The little guy trying to build something innovative gets buried under paperwork while yesterday’s criminals just move to the next jurisdiction.
Patryn’s last known location? Thailand. No extradition treaty for this kind of thing. Even if criminal charges ever materialize, good luck bringing him back.
What Happens Next?
The gold bars and watches will likely be auctioned or liquidated in the coming months. The province keeps a cut for administrative costs, and whatever is left might flow to victims through a restitution order.
Meanwhile, the crypto community watches nervously. If civil forfeiture can reach assets years later, hidden in safety deposit boxes under fake names, very few old skeletons are truly buried.
Perhaps the most interesting aspect, to me at least, is how quiet Patryn has been. No public statement, no fiery X thread, nothing. Just silence while the government carts away a million dollars he once thought was safe.
In an industry built on loud bravado and “have fun staying poor” memes, that silence feels louder than any rant ever could.
Whether this seizure marks the final chapter of the Quadriga saga or just another twist, one thing is clear: even in crypto, ghosts from the past have a way of catching up. Eventually.
Disclosure: The author held no position in QuadrigaCX and was not personally affected by its collapse.
