He Promised 15% Returns With Zero Risk. It Was A $60 Million Scam

There are secret recordings. Carefully rehearsed sales pitches. Emotional manipulation. And promises that sounded almost impossible to resist. At the centre of it all was a simple claim: invest once, earn annual returns of 10 per cent to 15 per cent for years, and never worry about losing your money.

Investigation into Paul Regan, a US man accused of duping people of millions, reads almost like The Wolf Of The Wall Street. According to US prosecutors, almost everything about Paul's promise to investors was false.

Regan, 49, has now pleaded guilty to three felony fraud charges after authorities accused him of orchestrating a Ponzi scheme that raised more than $60 million from over 300 investors through firms called Next Level Holdings and Yield Wealth. Much of that money, prosecutors say, never went into the investments he described.

Recordings Exposed Paul's Playbook

One of the most striking parts of the case is the evidence itself.

Regan routinely recorded conversations with prospective investors, according to a report by The Wall Street Journal. But the recordings were not meant for compliance or documentation. Instead, he allegedly used them as training material, teaching dozens of sales agents how to persuade hesitant clients into investing.

The call recordings reveal that Paul rarely relied only on financial jargon. Instead, he sold reassurance. Regan understood that many of his targets were retirees or people approaching retirement. 

When speaking to a 71-year-old woman who said she had worked two jobs for most of her life, he didn't begin with charts or numbers. He praised her hard work. Then he told her that her savings would now "work twice as hard" for her.

To another investor, he joked that the risk of losing money was about as likely as being attacked by a saber-toothed tiger or stepped on by a dinosaur.

Humour lowered people's guard. Empathy built trust. According to The Wall Street Journal, these emotional appeals became one of his most effective sales tools.

Faith, Family, and False Reassurance

The conversations often moved far beyond investing.

In one recorded call, a disabled Vietnam War veteran said he wanted to invest not only for himself but also for an elderly friend suffering from Alzheimer's disease. Regan responded emotionally, saying anyone who knowingly exposed such people to financial risk deserved "a special kind of hell".

He repeatedly invoked his Christian faith and told the investor that the conversation had touched his heart. The man eventually invested about $600,000.

In another conversation, Regan described helping an investor as his "deliverance" and a blessing, assuring her that he would bring peace of mind and restful nights. She invested more than $150,000.

Regan presented himself as a seasoned financier with multiple successful businesses. He claimed to operate international gold mining and trading ventures. He also said he generated profits by purchasing health insurance policies at discounted prices.

According to prosecutors, those businesses either barely existed or were never meaningful sources of investment income. Instead, authorities allege that investor money was largely used to pay earlier investors -- the defining feature of a Ponzi scheme.

Investigators also accused Regan and his associates of creating forged insurance documents to convince clients their investments were fully protected.

"Guaranteed" Returns That Weren't Guaranteed

Perhaps the biggest selling point was certainty.

Regan allegedly told investors their principal was protected, their interest payments were insured, and even if an investment collapsed early, they would still receive every promised payout.

He frequently claimed government agencies had approved the investment products. That claim was particularly misleading.

Under US securities laws, the Securities and Exchange Commission does not "approve" investments in the way Regan allegedly suggested. Prosecutors say he nevertheless used those assurances repeatedly to convince investors they faced virtually no risk.

The investigation also shines a light on how the products were sold. Rather than hiring experienced investment professionals, Regan allegedly recruited insurance agents, many with little or no securities background.

Some were reportedly burdened with heavy debt and attracted by commissions that could reach 15 per cent.

According to The Wall Street Journal, agents were sold lists of older Americans with significant savings and were encouraged to pitch the investment products even without securities licences. Some agents even invested their own money after believing Regan's promises.

A Lavish Lifestyle Behind The Scenes

While investors were being promised safe returns, Regan was reportedly cultivating loyalty among his sales force with extravagant rewards. In 2024, dozens of agents travelled to Medellín, Colombia, for a multi-day event featuring luxury accommodations, entertainment, parties and financial presentations.

The gatherings reinforced the image of success and encouraged agents to keep bringing in new investors. But behind closed doors, prosecutors say Regan demanded complete loyalty and reacted furiously whenever anyone questioned the operation or tried to verify company claims independently.

However, questions about the business began surfacing publicly in 2024. A series of investigations by The Wall Street Journal scrutinised the unusually high returns being marketed and the companies' bold promises.

Soon after, online promotional material disappeared, operations wound down and both federal and state regulators launched investigations. By September 2025, the SEC had accused Regan of misappropriating at least $50 million of the roughly $63 million raised from investors.

What Happens Now?

Regan pleaded guilty in March and is expected to be sentenced in August. His plea agreement requires him to pay full restitution to victims. Whether investors will recover much of their money remains uncertain.

The case has become a stark reminder that investment fraud rarely begins with complicated financial products. It often starts with something far simpler -- trust.