She Gave Him Her Number. Two Weeks Later, He Started Talking About Crypto

By Sam, from Austin, Texas

Note: This is based on a friend's experience. I've changed identifying details to protect her privacy. The story is real, but the names and some specifics have been altered.

I've been writing about online dating safety for a while now, and I've noticed something: most articles are written for women. They warn women about guys who ask for their number too fast, guys who push for dates too quickly, guys who seem too good to be true.

But here's the thing nobody talks about: guys get targeted too. And sometimes, the people who get hurt aren't the ones you'd expect.

This is the story of my friend Rachel. She's in her late twenties, lives in Texas, and she's one of the smartest people I know. She's a lawyer, for crying out loud. And she still almost got scammed out of $12,000.

I'm sharing her story because I think it needs to be told. Not to scare anyone. But because the more we talk about this, the harder it is for scammers to win.

How It Started

Rachel matched with a guy on Hinge in January. Let's call him "Mark."

His profile looked normal. He was in his mid-thirties, worked in finance, had photos of himself hiking and traveling. Nothing screamed "scam." He was good-looking, sure, but not in a model way. He seemed real.

They started chatting. He was funny. He asked good questions. He remembered details she mentioned — her dog's name, her favorite restaurant, the fact that she hated her boss. He was attentive in a way that felt genuine.

Within a week, he asked for her number. She gave it to him without thinking twice.

"I didn't even hesitate," she told me later. "He seemed so normal. Why would I hesitate?"

Moving off the dating app quickly isn't proof of a scam. But according to McAfee's 2026 Valentine's Day research, scammers often push to move conversations off-platform early to gain control and privacy. That's the thing about scams. They don't look like scams. They look like relationships.

The Slow Build

For the first two weeks, everything was fine. They texted throughout the day. They talked on the phone a few times. He sent her good morning messages and good night messages. He asked about her day.

Then he started talking about money.

Not directly. He didn't ask her for anything. Instead, he mentioned that he'd been doing well in crypto. He said his uncle had taught him a system. He said he'd made enough to pay off his car and was thinking about quitting his job.

Rachel was curious. She asked questions. He answered them patiently, like he was explaining something to a friend.

Then he offered to show her how it worked. "Just a small amount to start," he said. "You can pull out anytime."

She didn't do it right away. But after a few more days of him talking about how much he'd made, how easy it was, how he just wanted to share this with her — she agreed to try.

She sent him $500.

A week later, she sent $2,500.

Then $5,000.

Then $4,000 more.

By the time she realized what was happening, she'd sent $12,000 to a guy she'd never met in person.

According to the FBI's 2025 Internet Crime Report, confidence and romance fraud caused $929 million in reported losses in 2025 alone. Rachel was now part of that statistic.

The Signs She Missed

When Rachel told me what happened, I asked her what the warning signs were. In hindsight, they were there.

He love-bombed her. He told her he'd never felt this way before. He said she was different. He talked about the future. All of this happened before they'd ever met in person. McAfee's research identifies "love bombing" as a key stage in the romance scam playbook .

He never wanted to video chat. She asked a few times. He always had an excuse — bad lighting, no privacy, "I hate how I look on camera." She let it go because everything else seemed fine. McAfee advises asking for a "real-time video call and a specific, verifiable detail" to test authenticity .

He avoided meeting up. He lived two hours away, he said. He was busy with work. He'd come visit "soon." But "soon" never came.

He brought up money early. Not asking for it. Just talking about it. Planting the seed. Making it seem normal. McAfee's research shows that "a 'small' emergency, a plane ticket, a crypto opportunity" are common financial hooks .

The Tools That Could Have Caught This

After Rachel told me her story, I did some digging. There were things she could have done — things anyone can do — to check if Mark was real.

Reverse image search. Take his photos and run them through Google Images, Yandex, or Bing. If they show up on other profiles or stock photo sites, that's a red flag. Rachel never did this. If she had, she might have found that "Mark's" photos belonged to a real person whose identity had been stolen. There's a great breakdown on Indie Hackers about Google Lens vs. Bing vs. Yandex for reverse image search that shows how each tool has different strengths .

People search sites. A site like Spokeo.com can search a phone number or email address and show what's publicly linked to it. If the name doesn't match what he told her, or if the number is linked to multiple identities, that's worth investigating. These sites aren't free — check current pricing on the service's official site before you try one — but they can give you answers fast. One Indie Hackers post explains how a Bumble phone number search works in 2026, covering both free and paid methods .

Live video call. Ask the person to do something specific on a live video call. Wave their hand across their face. Hold up a random object. Turn their head. A live video call isn't proof of identity — deepfake technology is improving all the time — but it's harder to fake an unscripted conversation than a pre-recorded video. If they can't or won't do it, that tells you something.

Look for publicly available information about the company or city they claim to be associated with. If someone says they work in finance, search the company they mention. If they say they live in a certain city, look for public information about that area. Scammers often use real details mixed with fake ones. The inconsistencies can be hard to spot, but they're there.

What Rachel Wants You to Know

I asked Rachel what she'd want other people to take away from her experience. Here's what she said:

"Don't trust your gut alone. Your gut can be fooled. Scammers are good at what they do. They know how to make you feel special. They know how to make you feel safe."

She paused, then added: "Do the checks. Even if you feel stupid doing them. Even if you think you're being paranoid. It's better to be paranoid than to lose $12,000."

She also said something else that stuck with me. She said she felt embarrassed. Ashamed. Like she should have known better.

"You hear about people falling for these scams and you think, 'How could they be so stupid?' Then it happens to you, and you realize it's not about intelligence. It's about emotion. They target your emotions."

What I've Learned

I've been writing about this topic for a while now, and the more I learn, the more I realize how sophisticated these scams have become.

The old advice — "just reverse image search" — isn't enough anymore. AI-generated photos won't show up anywhere. Video calls can be faked with deepfake software. Romance scammers use real names, real details, real stories.

So what do you do?

You verify. You use the tools that exist. You check phone numbers on people search sites. You run image searches. You pay attention to inconsistencies. And you don't send money to someone you've never met in person. Ever.

It's not about being paranoid. It's about being smart.

Rachel lost $12,000. She's still recovering. But she's okay. And she wants her story to help someone else.

Don't let it be you.

Sam is a writer based in Austin, Texas. He writes about dating, technology, and staying safe online. This article is based on a friend's real experience and his own research.