Ten steps. Each one enabled by the last. Each one visible in hindsight. And at every critical junction — Steps 5, 7, 8, 9 — Nimrod is the enabler. The gatekeeper who opens the gate. The guardian who lets the wolf in.
William was the weapon. Nimrod pulled the trigger. Ten times.
March 2024. Eran is driving back from Key West to Miami. Five people in the car — Eran, Rebecca, and the kids. Eitan drives. End of a long family trip. Everyone is tired.
The phone rings. Speaker on.
On the other end: Nimrod. Yuval. Ron. Omri. All four. Coordinated. Ready.
There's a client. A "special opportunity." It requires a $300,000 advance — cash, off the books, a grey-area deal.
Nimrod's pitch: "Where do you think the money comes from? There's no money. We have to do this."
Four men on the line. One tired man in a car with his family. The timing isn't accidental — Omri caught Eran stressed, exhausted, at his most vulnerable.
What none of them told Eran: Nimrod personally owed him over $1 million in undisclosed private debts. Ron knew — he managed the books. Omri knew — he was the lawyer. Eran didn't.
The man asking for $300,000 already owed a million. And everyone on the call knew except the one being asked.
The ambush fails. Eran says no.
But the pattern is set: when persuasion doesn't work — steal. When theft is discovered — run to family court.
November 2025. Something is deeply wrong and Eran can feel it. The feed disruptions don't add up. The "certificate updates" don't add up. The timing — always Saturdays — doesn't add up.
Eran makes a call. Not to Nimrod. Not to Omri. Not to the company lawyer who is working for the company thief.
He calls a personal friend — a former senior FBI official.
"I think someone inside my company is sabotaging me."
What follows: months of forensic investigation. Eran works around the clock. He begins cryptographically signing every chip transaction. Building tamper detection. Layering zero-trust security on a system that was built on family trust.
Anchor3D isn't born in a boardroom. It's born from betrayal. Twelve US patents — every one of them a scar from a specific attack.
Nimrod cooperates at first. He has to — refusing would look suspicious. He even offers leads.
"I have a lead on who did it."
But Nimrod has an advantage that Eran doesn't know about.
Since early 2025, Eran's WhatsApp has been open on a Proxmox virtual machine. In the autonomous studio in Uruguay. A device linked to Eran's account — sitting quietly in an empty room, forwarding every message to whoever has access.
Nimrod found it. And for an entire year, he has been reading everything.
Every message between Eran and Rebecca — about the kids, about the investigation, about their fears.
Every message between Eran and Ethan — about the business, about who to trust.
Every message between Eran and Marcel — about family, about loyalty.
Every message between Eran and Harold — about security, about what they've found.
The investigator's own communications — monitored in real time by the suspect.
While Eran hunts the attacker, the attacker reads every step of the hunt. Every lead. Every theory. Every next move.
And Nimrod doesn't just read. He acts.
Nimrod copies conversations. And deletes others.
The messages between Eran and Marcel — gone. Every one.
Why delete conversations with your own father? Because Marcel is on Nimrod's side. And those conversations might contain evidence that Marcel knew about the plan. Knew about the theft. Knew — and chose the son with the villa over the son with the truth.
The messages with "Natalio" — Eran's crypto contact — copied and deleted.
Why? Because $6 million in cryptocurrency wallets are about to be seized. And conversations with the crypto contact might contain wallet addresses, recovery phrases, or proof of ownership that would make the seizure impossible.
Nimrod isn't just spying. He's editing the evidence. Deleting what incriminates him. Preserving what helps him. Curating a version of reality where he's the victim and Eran is the problem.
For twelve months. While smiling at family dinners. While calling Eran "achi."
From the Uruguay WhatsApp, Nimrod extracts two passwords:
Eran's password: [redacted]
Harold's password: [redacted]
Both visible in plain text in private messages. Because who encrypts passwords in messages to people they trust?
Nimrod passes both directly to William.
We believe the purpose was to destroy Eran's last remaining independent infrastructure — to make the technology look so broken that the board would have no choice but to "transfer operations to someone reliable."
Mid-November 2025. A Friday evening. Eran is entering Shabbat. Key team members are already offline.
William launches the attack. But William is angry. Underpaid. Feeling used. And angry hackers don't follow surgical plans.
The attack is supposed to hit only Eran's feed in Cali. Instead, William hits everything. Amazon infrastructure. Partner systems. Client connections. All down.
And then — William hits a server in the Philippines. A honeypot. A trap server that only Eran knows about. A server whose IP address exists in exactly one place: Eran's private documentation.
The moment that server is hit, Eran knows. Not suspects — knows. Only one chain leads there: Eran's WhatsApp → Nimrod → William.
Friday night. Everything is burning. Eran calls William for help.
"Good luck to you."
The evidence suggests Nimrod was furious — not because of the breach, but because William hit too much.
Based on what we later discovered, the plan appears to have been surgical. Instead, William's rage created a catastrophe impossible to hide. $40,000 in immediate client damages. A mess so big it couldn't be blamed on "Eran's unreliable technology."
The attack appears to have been intended as targeted. Instead, William's actions caused damage that could not be concealed.
William resigns. But the Philippines honeypot wasn't just a trap — it was the beginning of Anchor3D. Every attack pattern becomes a signature in a new zero-trust detection system. Every vulnerability becomes a patented protection layer.
Twelve patents. Born from one night of fire. William just wrote the technical specifications for his own prosecution.
William leaves angry. But armed with knowledge: the chip-moving vulnerability. A few-second window between when a player sees the result on video and when the server calculates.
Eran discovered this a year earlier. He told the team. Nimrod told William.
Diamond Exchange — major Indian operator, twelve tables. William uses the exploit. $600,000 stolen.
The client calls Nimrod. Nimrod never calls back.
But the next morning, Nimrod calls Eran. And directs him with surgical precision:
"Check chip movements. Check the database. Check the control points."
In minutes, Nimrod identifies what Neta, Gil, and the entire technical team couldn't find in an entire night.
"I have a lead on who did it."
"Who?"
"William Rodriguez."
Either Nimrod is secretly the greatest cybersecurity mind in gaming history. Or he already knew. Because he built the play.
Eran hires real investigators. Former federal prosecutors. Former FBI agents. Sherwin enters.
Nimrod understands: if Sherwin reaches William, William talks. And William knows about Fresh Deck, the shell companies, the money flows, that Nimrod gave him the passwords, that Nimrod told him about the chip vulnerability.
So Nimrod flips. "Maybe it wasn't William. Maybe it was an Indian competitor."
Overnight. No new evidence. Just a complete reversal.
Before the flip came the trigger. The night that made Nimrod desperate enough to change his story.
It started with a betrayal inside a betrayal. Charlie and Nimrod connected Eduardo — a high-value client — directly to Vivo's infrastructure. Bypassing BetsOnAir entirely. Eduardo was supposed to be a BOA direct client. Instead, they routed him through Vivo — cutting Eran out of the relationship, out of the revenue, out of the loop.
Then they opened the limits. Wide. A VIP player at Eduardo's operation won — legitimately. Big. The kind of win that happens when you remove the safety controls that exist for exactly this reason.
Nimrod's response: "Security issue!"
A player winning is not a security issue. A player winning is a casino operating normally. But Nimrod needed a crisis — a manufactured emergency that would justify intervention, justify panic, justify the narrative that Eran's technology was failing.
Gil — following Nimrod's instructions — shuts down BOA for hours. Live tables dark. Clients disconnected. Revenue stopped.
Eran catches it. Immediately.
"A player winning is not a security event. Zero trust. Signed chips. The system is working exactly as designed."
No breach. No hack. No vulnerability. A VIP player won money at a casino. That's it. Everything else was theater.
Eran doesn't hesitate. He disconnects BOA from Vivo. Immediately. Completely. The cord is cut.
Twelve hours later: Nimrod calls William.
The timeline is damning. Eran severs the connection at night. By dawn, Nimrod is on the phone with the hacker. The man who was supposedly fired. The man Nimrod himself identified as the attacker. The man who stole $600,000 from Diamond Exchange.
Twelve hours. That's how long it took for Nimrod to pivot from "I'm with Eran" to "call the weapon."
Then comes the email. 02:56 AM. Nimrod writes to the team:
"Endless security issues."
"Servers are breached."
At 2:56 in the morning — manufacturing a paper trail. Creating the narrative that will justify everything that follows. There are no "endless security issues." There is no breach. There is a VIP player who won money, a brother who panicked, and a 2:56 AM email designed to rewrite reality.
The full email chain exists. Every word. Every timestamp. Every lie.
Nimrod recruits Tal — a security consultant — with a promise of investment. Tal pushes a false narrative: "The problem is hash keys on an external server."
Meanwhile, William executes a second attack on Diamond Exchange — different method, fake transactions. Three purposes: William takes money, Nimrod gets cover, both blame Eran's technology.
Then the pitch: "We need to transfer the technology to someone reliable."
That someone: Yafit. No last name. No company. No email. No phone. A ghost.
The culmination of five years: break the builder's technology, blame the builder, hand the builder's creation to a phantom.
April 2026. Marcel visits Eran's home. Instead of engaging, he tries to steer the conversation away. Rebecca catches the misdirection.
Next morning: every WhatsApp message between Eran and Marcel disappears.
The first suspect: Rebecca. Marcel suggests it too. "Maybe Rebecca deleted them."
Delete the evidence. Blame the wife. Create a wedge.
But Eran checks. Marcel's phone: all messages saved. Deletion happened only on Eran's device.
Eran opens WhatsApp settings. Connected devices.
One device. Active for over a year. Location: Uruguay.
The Proxmox machine. In the autonomous studio. The empty room that nobody visits.
Nimrod.
Every private moment for twelve months — weaponized.
Eran didn't just investigate — he built. While Nimrod read his messages and thought he knew every move, Eran was deploying Anchor3D. Running silently on the server cabinet in FTL. NetFlow logging every connection. DOME signing every transaction.
Nimrod was reading Eran's words. But he couldn't read Eran's code.
One night — Nimrod makes his move. Transfer the live technology to Yafit.
Two logins on the FTL cabinet:
[redacted] — Eran's stolen password
[redacted] — Harold's stolen password
They navigate to Neta's machine. Twenty-nine minutes of activity. Nginx restarted and covered — four times. Manufacturing "instability" to justify the transfer.
Every second logged. Every credential captured. Every action recorded.
The technology that Nimrod tried to steal — is the technology that caught him stealing.
The same day. Two coordinated operations. Morning and afternoon. Same target: Eran.
While Eran is still processing the Anchor3D evidence, Nimrod sends a full product specification document to a gaming security company. A spec for a competing product — built from Eran's technology, Eran's architecture, Eran's fifteen years of work. Sent while still pretending to be Eran's partner.
Then the WhatsApp messages begin. Nimrod — writing to Eran — drops his mask completely. Every message forwarded by Eran to Omri at 16:59, creating a real-time record:
Translation: There is no founders agreement. After fifteen years. After Eran built every line of code. Nimrod admits — in writing — that he has no legal document giving him rights to anything.
Dismisses twelve US patents. Twelve. Registered, documented, published patents — and the man who claims to co-own the company doesn't even know they exist. Because he didn't build the technology. The people who create know what they've registered.
Eran sends a warning. Nimrod responds: I don't care. I'll do what I want. In writing. On the record.
Nimrod claims copyright — on a document titled "VG Studio RM Procedures Manual." A manual for Eran's studio. Eran's technology. Eran's procedures. And the man who never wrote a line of code claims it as his intellectual property.
When logic fails, switch to emotion. The manipulation toolkit's last resort — play the victim. After fifteen years of riding Eran's code, Rebecca's brand, and the company's money: "just pain."
Eran forwarded every single message to Omri. Timestamp: 16:59. Creating a chain of evidence that Nimrod didn't know existed.
The same day. Omri arrives at Eran's house in Miami. In person. Pressuring Eran to sign the founders agreement — the same document that strips his majority control, transfers his IP, and gives Nimrod veto power.
Nimrod threatens in the morning. Omri pressures in the afternoon. Same day. Coordinated.
Omri leaves. Gets on the train back. At 21:34 — a message: "45 minutes." Reporting his travel time. To whom? The coordination is documented.
Nimrod wasn't stupid. He enabled WhatsApp's disappearing messages before this conversation. The messages were set to self-destruct. Evidence designed to evaporate.
But Eran was smarter. He hit Forward on every message before they vanished. Sent them to Omri — creating a permanent copy with timestamps and metadata, archived in a conversation Nimrod couldn't delete.
The messages Nimrod thought would disappear — are now permanent evidence of his own admissions. In his own words. In his own handwriting. Forwarded, timestamped, and preserved forever.
Before the masks he wore for the outside world, understand the masks he wore for the inside.
By mid-2026, Nimrod wasn't running one deception. He was running five — simultaneously, in real time, each one contradicting the others, each one requiring perfect compartmentalization.
Five simultaneous betrayals. Five different stories told to five different people. And in the center of the web — one man, reading everyone's messages, directing everyone's actions, trusting that no one would ever compare notes.
They did.
And for the outside world — five more masks:
Imagine all five groups in one room. Comparing notes. Five stories. Same person. Same year. Same brother.
Then add the five internal fronts. Ten stories total. Ten audiences. Ten versions of reality — crafted by one man who believed he was the smartest person in every room.
At least nine are lies. The question is whether any of them are true.
July 2026. Nimrod registers himself as representative of VE Productions S.A.S. — the Colombian operating entity. Using forged documents. Without Eran's signature.
$14,259 in registration and transfer costs — paid from company funds — to file paperwork that would give Nimrod control of the Colombian entity.
August 26, 2026: The Colombian Chamber of Commerce reviews and rejects the registration. Missing documents. Missing authorizations. Even the bureaucracy can smell forgery.
| Asset | Status |
|---|---|
| VE Productions studio operations | $10M+/year revenue — control transferred without authorization |
| Cryptocurrency wallets | ~$6M — access removed following WhatsApp breach |
| Vivo Gaming trademark & domains | 15 years of brand equity — domain control transferred |
| Incident | Claimed Amount |
|---|---|
| Diamond Exchange breach | ~$600K |
| India client breach | ~$1M |
| Fresh Deck (unreported operation) | Under investigation |
Criminal complaints filed in Israel. Regulatory complaints and legal proceedings active. experienced investigators reviewing the evidence. Colombian Chamber rejecting forged documents. The gaming industry watching. Anchor3D catching every move.
Nimrod's response: file in Israeli family court.
He does not want to talk about five shell companies, $600K stolen from Diamond Exchange, $6M in seized crypto, forged documents in Colombia, twelve months of WhatsApp surveillance, or millions in identified losses across multiple categories.
Family court cannot subpoena Seychelles records. Cannot investigate international wire fraud. Cannot analyze NetFlow logs.
That's the point. Nimrod chose the only venue that can't see what he did.
Marcel stands by Nimrod's side. Marcel — who attacked Rebecca behind the sukkah. Who shows off the Ari Suf villa his younger son bought with money from the company his older son built.
Marcel chose. Not between two sons — between truth and comfort. Between the builder who struggles and the thief who provides.
He chose the villa.
But the evidence doesn't care about family court. The evidence is in five countries. In 70,000 WhatsApp messages that Nimrod thought he was the only one reading.
He wasn't.
Meanwhile, Nimrod registered Game Shield Ltd. — with the same associates. Ron with his 3%. A hidden 5% trust. No new technology. No new code. No patents. No innovation. The same operation, reorganised under a different name.
This is not a business story. This is the story of a woman who built everything — and the man who followed her for fifteen years, took everything she built, and then erased her name from the records.
Before there was code. Before there was a company. Before there was a brand worth $70 million.
There was Rebecca.
Rebecca Zur — seven years at A.T. Kearney in New York, one of the world's top management consulting firms. The kind of place that doesn't hire people who can't perform under pressure. The kind of place where you learn how to build companies, raise capital, and turn strategy into execution.
In 2004, Eran and Rebecca built WhizAnalysis together. It won PC Magazine Editor's Choice — the gold standard of the industry. Not a participation trophy. An earned recognition.
In 2009, they raised approximately $2 million to build what would become Vivo Gaming. Rebecca built the business infrastructure. Eran wrote the code. Together, they were the engine.
But even before that — the shadow was already there.
Eran and Rebecca get married. Nimrod follows them to Canada.
They move back to Israel. Nimrod goes to Isaac — Rebecca's father — and moves into his house. Six months. Free rent. Free car. Free food. Like an adopted child no one requested.
Then Nimrod comes to Rebecca. Sits in her office like a lost puppy.
"Find me something to do."
Rebecca — because that's who she is — says: "We'll find you something."
He shows up at two. Gets hungry at four. Does something at six.
This is the man who will later claim he "built" a $70 million company.
From the very first day, Nimrod didn't follow Eran. He followed Rebecca. Because Rebecca was where the money was, where the credibility was, where the ability to make things happen lived.
Stream Tech Gaming. The first company. Ahud Gut invests. Others follow.
Rebecca is the face. She raises the capital. She brings the credibility. A.T. Kearney. PC Magazine. Real credentials.
And then Nimrod is inside. Within a year: trying to sell the company, bringing in his friends — Ariel Harpaz (today: 5% in Game Shield) — planning to control the business.
The investors stop investing. Not because of the technology. Not because of the market. Because of Nimrod.
Rebecca builds streamingproject.com — the website, the face, the digital presence. Her words. Her design.
Stream Tech splits. But streamingproject.com lives on. And years later, when you type that URL into a browser — it redirects to vivoent.asia. Nimrod's entity. Using Rebecca's words.
He didn't just steal the domain. He's still wearing her face.
Eran and Rebecca rebuild. From the wreckage of Stream Tech. From a rented apartment in Miami. From zero.
Rebecca builds vivogaming.com. Months of work. Design. Content. SEO.
2020. COVID hits. Asia shuts down. Chinese operators search online. They find Vivo Gaming. Through Rebecca's website.
From that traffic: the Chinese clients. From those clients: the revenue. From that revenue: the Data Feed that Eran writes through sleepless nights. From that Data Feed: the money that builds Colombia.
The chain: Rebecca's website → clients → Eran's code → revenue → Colombia.
And what does Nimrod do? Slowly, gradually — blocks her access. The woman who built the website that generated the revenue that funded the company — locked out of her own creation.
Then steals the domain entirely. Changes the GoDaddy account name. Takes control.
Two websites. Built by one woman. Stolen by her husband's brother.
The full story of the domain theft is written in 856 lines of GoDaddy account history. Twenty-one years of records — dating back to 2005, when the account was first created for Stream Tech Gaming.
856 lines. Every transaction. Every change. Every payment method. Every name alteration. A complete forensic timeline of how one man slowly, patiently stole another man's digital identity.
It started with the payment methods. Eran's PayPal — the original account funding — was gradually replaced. First one card. Then another. Nimrod's Visa. Nimrod's Mastercard. Transaction by transaction, the financial control shifted from the founder's payment method to the thief's.
Not all at once. That would be noticed. Gradually. A new card added here. An old one "expired" there. Until one day, every renewal, every registration fee, every payment — went through Nimrod's cards. And the man who pays the bills controls the account.
Then came the name. The GoDaddy account name — originally registered as "Eran Eliyahu Tobul" — was changed.
Changed to: "Eran Nimi Tobul."
Read that again. Not changed to "Nimrod Tobul." That would be obvious. Changed to "Eran Nimi Tobul" — a hybrid. Keeping Eran's first name for legitimacy while inserting Nimrod's nickname ("Nimi") into the identity. A forgery disguised as an update. A theft wearing the victim's face.
Who is "Eran Nimi Tobul"? Nobody. That person doesn't exist. It's a fabricated identity — designed to maintain the appearance of Eran's ownership while giving Nimrod operational control.
Through this single account — over twenty-one years — the following domains were stolen:
| Domain | What It Represents |
|---|---|
| vivogaming.com | The brand. Rebecca built the site. Eran registered the trademark. Fifteen years of reputation. |
| streamingproject.com | Rebecca's first website. Stream Tech Gaming. Still redirects to vivoent.asia — Nimrod's entity. Still using her words. |
| vivoent.asia | Nimrod's operating entity. The destination for stolen traffic. |
| vivo.casino | Premium domain. Gaming industry gold. |
| 1vivo.com | Brand protection domain. |
| 8vivo.com | Asian market domain (8 = lucky in Chinese culture). |
| mobilevivo.com | Mobile gaming portal. |
| actualcasino.com | Generic gaming domain. |
| kasoom.com | Side project domain. |
| alphasatellite.org | Infrastructure domain. |
Ten domains. One stolen account. Zero consent.
Every domain Eran registered. Every domain Rebecca built content for. Every domain that generated traffic, attracted clients, built a brand — transferred through a GoDaddy account where the credit cards were swapped and the name was forged.
The 856 lines don't lie. They tell the story of a twenty-one-year relationship between a founder and his domain registrar — hijacked by a brother who replaced the credit cards, changed the name, and walked away with the entire digital identity of a company he didn't build.
Throughout the years, Nimrod sends Rebecca ugly emails. Demeaning. Degrading. On multiple occasions.
This is not business disagreement. This is a man who cannot tolerate that his brother's wife is more capable, more credible, and more valuable than he will ever be.
Rebecca raised the money that Nimrod couldn't raise. Built the websites that Nimrod couldn't build. Brought the credibility that Nimrod never had.
And for that — he punished her. In writing.
Early in Vivo Gaming's history, there was an incident. Nimrod physically pinched Eliav — Eran and Rebecca's young child. Not playfully. Inappropriately.
Eran confronted Nimrod directly. Warned him: never again.
Later, they learned that Nimrod was pinching his own children regularly.
A man who hurts children — his own and his brother's — is not a man who will hesitate to steal from them.
Sukkot 2023. The family gathers in Israel. Marcel corners Rebecca behind the sukkah. Aggressively pressures her to agree to purchase a $7 million villa for Nimrod on Ari Suf Street — Teddy Sagi's neighborhood.
Rebecca refuses. She's in tears. Catering staff intervene. Guests ask Marcel what his problem is.
The woman who built the websites, raised the capital, brought the credibility, built the company from zero — is being physically pressured behind a holiday structure by her father-in-law to buy a mansion for the man who contributed nothing.
Nimrod watches.
2019: Rebecca's ownership traces — through Eran — are erased from Vivo Ent Limited.
2024: The POA chain that Patricia González Colman signed — without Eran or Rebecca's knowledge — gives Colombian lawyers the ability to act "on behalf of" the entity.
August 2026: Rebecca is removed as CEO of VE Productions in Colombia. Replaced by Nimrod. Through documents she never saw. Through signatures she never made.
The woman who built the company's face, raised its capital, signed its registration documents in Miami in 2018 — erased.
| Website | Who Built It | What It Did | What Nimrod Did |
|---|---|---|---|
| streamingproject.com | Rebecca | Face of Stream Tech, raised capital | Redirected to vivoent.asia — her words still there |
| vivogaming.com | Rebecca | Face of Vivo Gaming, attracted Chinese clients, generated millions | Stole domain, changed account, blocked her access |
Same woman. Same pattern. Twice.
Build → attract clients → generate revenue → steal.
To everyone who has heard Nimrod's version — "Eran lost it," "Eran is mentally ill," "Eran is the problem":
Where is Rebecca in Nimrod's story?
She doesn't exist. She's been erased. Just like in the corporate records.
But Rebecca is the one who raised the money. Built the websites. Brought the credibility. Signed the documents. Created the digital presence that generated millions.
You can erase a name from a registry. You can steal a domain. You can remove a CEO through forged documents. You can swap credit cards and forge account names across 856 lines of history.
But you can't erase the truth: Rebecca built it. Nimrod took it.
"He followed her for fifteen years. From Canada to Israel to Miami. He lived in her father's house. He ate at her table. He asked her for a job. She gave him everything. And he stole everything she built. Twice. And then erased her name.
That's not business. That's not a family dispute. That's something darker. And the records prove it — all 856 lines of them."
Ethan Tobul is twenty-four years old. He should be starting his career. Building something. Living.
Instead, he's been at war. For two years.
Nimrod sued Ethan through Gissin & Co. — one of Israel's top law firms. A firm that specializes in corporate insolvency and restructuring. The kind of firm you hire when you've dismantled a company and need to manage the wreckage.
They didn't sue Eran. They sued Ethan. The son. Twenty-four years old.
Why Ethan? Because Ethan was Eran's bridge to the industry. Ethan was learning the business. Ethan was meeting operators, attending conferences, building relationships. And every relationship Ethan built was a potential exposure — a person who might hear the truth about what Nimrod did.
Nimrod wasn't afraid of Ethan. He was afraid of what Ethan would discover.
Years of fraud. Unreported side deals. Shell companies. Stolen clients. If Ethan talked to the industry — the industry would talk back. And the stories wouldn't match Nimrod's version.
So Nimrod did what he always does: attack. Not with facts. With lawyers. With legal fees designed to drain. With court appearances designed to exhaust. With a two-year campaign designed to bury a young man's energy, time, and money — just to keep him away from the people who might tell him the truth.
Two years of Ethan's life. Burned. By his own uncle.
Nimrod couldn't control BetsOnAir — the project Eran and Ethan were building together. It was outside his reach. Independent. Clean. And worst of all: it was working. If BetsOnAir succeeded, the industry would see that Eran's technology works — without Nimrod. That was intolerable.
The lawsuit wasn't about money or rights. It was about burying the proof that the builder can build again — without the person who took control.
Ethan is still fighting. At twenty-four. With the weight of a corporate war on his shoulders. While his uncle counts stolen money in a villa bought with his father's revenue.
But Ethan has something Nimrod will never have: he watched his father build from zero. Twice. And he's learning to do the same.
Eran and Rebecca are rebuilding. New technology. New partners. From zero again.
Eran is building BetsOnAir. Anchor3D. Twelve US patents — every one born from a specific attack. New studios in Africa. New studios in Uruguay. New code, written by the same hands.
Rebecca is building again too. Different now. Harder. The trust that was broken wasn't just corporate — it was family. But she's still building. Because that's who she is.
From zero. Again. Because that's what builders do.
And the builder is still building.
Six months is a short phrase on a timeline. Living through it means something else entirely.
It means paying for another month of lawyers while still trying to obtain the financial information needed to understand what happened. It means continuing to build and serve clients while fighting over access to the business you helped create.
It means carrying that uncertainty home.
Now mediation is being proposed. We are willing to sit down and work toward a resolution. We need access to the records and a clear account of the money and assets involved.
Every month without that access increases the pressure on us. The legal bills continue. Our resources diminish. The questions remain unanswered.
That is the situation in which we are being asked to negotiate.
There is a particular pain in having to explain publicly what happened inside your own family. We know that publishing this account means exposing some of the hardest moments of our lives. We have chosen to do it because people in this industry continue to make decisions based on a name, a history and relationships we helped build.
Please read the account. Examine the supporting records. Ask who controls the entity you are dealing with, who receives its payments, and who has authority to speak on its behalf.
Rebecca deserves to have her work acknowledged. Our son deserves the chance to build his own future. The people who helped sustain this business deserve clear answers.
And we deserve the opportunity to recover what is ours.
For investigators, regulators and legal counsel:
📋 Download Investigative Dossier (PDF)23-section structured analysis with evidence preservation guidelines and questions for investigators
Eran and Rebecca Tobul
Do you have information about Vivo Gaming, Game Shield Ltd., or any of the entities mentioned? Your identity will be protected.