Startup Fundraising, Fake VCs, and an Actual Stalker: My Founder Horror Story

How one pitch turned into a rabbit hole of fake VCs, emotional manipulation, and FBI threats. A survival guide for women navigating investor landmine territory.

I didn’t mean to go viral on LinkedIn because of a stalker. As the founder of Imii – an AI-powered support platform for immigrants –  I was hoping for buzz around our traction, our social impact, maybe our new partnerships.

Instead, I found myself telling a story about boundaries, bad actors, and the very real dangers that lurk behind “warm intros” in startup land. What began as a potential fundraising lead spiralled into one of the weirdest, most emotionally taxing startup encounters I’ve ever had.

This is a story about stalking, manipulation, fundraising pitfalls, and the fine line between personal and professional. And if you’re a female founder, consider it a survival manual with plot twists.

Let’s rewind.

All names in this story have been changed for my personal safety, as the person in question still has my address.

🍝 Act I: The Lasagna and the Moth

It started innocently enough.

I met Edward — a young startup founder from US — at a Sifted Summit afterparty in London. As a born introvert, I was drained after two days of conferences and had retreated into a quiet corner, decompressing with my phone and a face that screamed “do not engage.”

I guess there’s something about my Slavic RBF that some people somehow find charming. Edward approached anyway. He told me about his startup. Asked for help with his deck (Could this be my new client? That’d be great, thought I). Then offered to continue the conversation over dinner.

Was I hungry? Always. Did I think this would be anything more than a friendly one-off conversation? Absolutely not.

But apparently, Edward kept the dinner receipt as a memento. This becomes important later.

In the next few days, Edward was insistently proposing to meet again. I did meet him and his friend for coffee to find out if there are more business grounds for us to collaborate. Not having discovered such, I bowed myself out and thought that was it.

Hell it wasn’t.

📩 Act II: The Fundraising Hook

A few months later, Edward reached out. He’d seen a LinkedIn post where I mentioned raising funds and offered to introduce me to an American VC fund “that loves impact-driven startups.”

He asked for my deck. I sent it. He offered to run a prep call with me and his advisor Jeff before making the intro. The call went well. They were supportive, enthusiastic, borderline giddy. I was told their investor — let’s call him Jim — would be even more excited.

Intro made. Deck sent. Call scheduled.

So far, so good.

Worth mentioning we agreed on a potential commission – both for Edward and for Jeff. As helpful and nice as they were, it wasn’t an act of charity.

📉 Act III: Investor Schrödinger Enters

Jim joined our call late, frazzled, and calling from his phone. He looked tired and overwhelmed. But he was warm. Said his wife was an immigrant, so he very much related to our mission. Told me he was once an immigration lawyer. He wanted to bring in his partners next time. We agreed to set another call.

Afterward, Edward called me immediately.

“So? What do you think?”

“He seemed nice… too nice. I expected tougher questions.”

“Maybe his partner’s the heavy. You should prep for that.”

I asked Edward how well he knew Jim.

“Not that well. We’re working together on a journalism investigation.”

Hmmm….

🧠 Act IV: Due Diligence, a.k.a. Google

Before the next call, I did my own due diligence. I reviewed Jim’s fund website and portfolio.

It was bizarre… To say the least. Healthy soda. On-demand laundry services. AI with no censorship. A collectibles grading platform. Crypto. You name it. Some links didn’t work. Some led to blank waitlist forms. Others were clearly inactive. A few had founders I couldn’t even identify on LinkedIn.

Hmm…

I emailed Jim proposing a new time. No reply. Edward chased him on WhatsApp. Eventually, we locked a new call.

Jim was late again. Still on his phone. Still vague.

He promised an easy due diligence process. Asked for forecasts. Offered to use our ASA template. Emphasised he doesn’t “pressure founders” and fully supports “stealth mode for a few years” if that’s what we wanted.

Cool. But weird. So I messaged every founder I could find from his portfolio.

Crickets.

Edward  suggested a few more from an old “pipeline” deck.

One responded quickly:

“We never got funding from them.”

Another shared that they had signed a term sheet. Over a year ago.

They were still waiting. The capital never arrived.

🧑‍💻 Act V: The Paranoia Sets In

Edward started freaking out. Sent me a selfie of Jim mid-Zoom.

“He looks like a wreck. I should’ve known.”

I kept digging. Another founder responded, claiming their company never got investment from this fund. However, turns out their co-founder was Jim’s partner at the fund. How could that even be possible?

I pulled up their deal history on Pitchbook and Traxn. The companies seemed real — but listed other investors. None had Jim’s fund officially on the cap table.

🌀 Act VI: The Plot Curves Sideways

At this point, Jim cancelled our next scheduled call. Edward followed up to say Jim had called him in the middle of the night — apparently, he was panicking because he was about to be sued and potentially disbarred. Something about a separate legal case.

I told Edward I didn’t want to pursue the deal any further. It was all too messy. I had a startup to build and no time for investor Schrödinger.

Then, Edward sent an email — copied to Jim — advising that he no longer recommends us to engage with the fund.

Minutes later, Jim exploded with angry emails, blaming Edward for being highly unprofessional and misunderstanding everything. I had no intention of getting involved in an open conflict, so I didn’t respond.

I thought that was it, but again… Hell it wasn’t.

Edward didn’t stop. He kept messaging. Daily. Inspirational quotes. LinkedIn reposts. Deleted messages. Book suggestions. My inbox turned into his mood board. At one point, he even sent me a picture with a receipt from that lasagna place we went to on the night we met at the party.

‘“Remember?”

Naturally, eventually I drew a line. Politely, I told him that this was not going anywhere beyond potential friendship, and nothing more.

He responded with another long-winded emotional confession. By this point, I’d already expressed whatever I had to say on the subject. So I didn’t reply.

Then, out of nowhere, he messaged again. Said he had another investor intro. Also, Jim was now threatening to sue him for defamation. Cue another avalanche of emails, books, essays, quotes.

Surely enough, I asked: "Are you moving on as you promised?"

He accused me of being disrespectful. I was so puzzled that the only thing I could respond with, was: “Well, if telling you I’m not interested — after months of subtle (and not-so-subtle) hints — is disrespectful, then I’m happy to be disrespectful.”

He blocked me on WhatsApp. Then LinkedIn.

Then unblocked me… to send a final message about how much I hurt him and how he’d rather be alone than continue “this” (?) with me.

That was my cue. I blocked him back. That should’ve been the end.

But then he sent me a handwritten letter. One page, A4, shipped from New York to my London address.

I responded by email. Kept it practical:

“Thanks for the sweet gesture, but if you still care as much as you say — you’re welcome to follow through on the intro you promised. Commission offer still stands.”

That’s when the real unhinging began. He accused me of being a liar. Referenced a TikTok I made about flying to meet someone I was actually interested in (I had no idea he was stalking me on TikTok, too). Claimed I was “fooling around and lying to myself,” and questioned “who would take me seriously” as a woman. Implicit sl*t-shaming. Explicit bitterness.

The second part of the email was all about mansplaining how to run my own business. He even went as far as to attach a PDF to demonstrate an example of a sprint he suggested for my startup. Do I even need to specify I never asked him for advice?..

Needless to say I told him where to go, and proceeded to what I do best – making lemonade out of the nastiest lemons.

📢 Act VII: Going Public

That was the moment I decided to make the story public — anonymised, of course.

I made a post on LinkedIn about my experience of being emotionally harassed by someone who used an investor intro as a way to get close to me.

Because whatever this person had on his mind, from my end, this is exactly how the story goes.

I blocked Edward on my Linkedin to spare myself from his reactions. Surely enough, he stalked my profile from elsewhere and responded with multiple angry emails to both of my emails – personal and professional.

Edward started emailing me again. Multiple times. Different inboxes. Even went as far as to inform me that he’s passed the names of a couple of commenters to his ex-FBI friend to “protect his physical safety”.

I’m not sure if those threats to his physical safety are in the same room with us, but whatever floats his boat.

At this point, I started seriously considering lawyering up for a restraining order.

I still am… But I really hope I don’t have to do this.

The upside I got?

Over 350 new followers on Linkedin, a sudden investor meeting booked, and a good story to share on my blogs.

And if my cautionary tale helps one more founder navigate a dodgy warm intro with a bit more confidence and clarity, it’s probably worth it.

🧯 Conclusion: What We’re Actually Talking About

This story isn’t just about online stalking, or the hurdles that female founders face, or dodgy investors. It’s about how easy it is for the lines between professional and personal to blur — and yes, especially for female founders. Especially when you’re raising. Especially when you’re tired, busy, and trying to be polite to strategic contacts. It’s about people who use power, perceived access, and emotional narratives to gain control.

So here’s what I want every founder (especially women) to take from this:

• Don’t confuse emotional attention for professional support.
• Don’t be afraid to vet your “warm intros.” Do your due diligence like your life depends on it. Just because someone means well doesn’t mean they’re safe.
• Document everything.
• And if things go off the rails — you are allowed to speak.
  

You don’t owe anyone silence.

Especially not men who think your boundaries are negotiable.

And remember: What doesn’t kill you makes great content.

(Oh, and yes, I’m still raising. Hit me up if you’re a real investor.)

More about me and imii: Scammed and exploited, she built an AI-driven app for immigrants like her