I did think it was weird to have to key in my bank account every time I made a withdrawal, but he assured me that it was safe, so I listened to him.
The profits were similar to those I made on my legitimate investments, so I didn’t think anything was amiss.
When the money stake was US$6,000 (S$8,480), he told me to put more in and try to take out my winnings, so I did. But I didn’t receive the money the next day. He told me to check with customer service.
They said that I’d keyed in the wrong bank account number and that to get my money back, I needed to furnish a new bank account with the correct number. But they still didn’t give me my money back.
They said it was because of my account credibility this time. I had to put an equivalent amount in to get my money back, which I did.
When I tried withdrawing the amount in the account, which was about US$12,000 by then, customer service said that my credit score had fallen to 45 per cent and that I needed to top up the account to make my credit score 100 per cent.
I’d never heard of such rules before, anywhere in the world. I told Dog One this was super ridiculous, and we started quarrelling. That’s when I knew it really was a scam, so I made a police report.
In total, I lost about S$15,000 to Dog One.
DON’T TREAT ME THE SAME: DOG THREE
I didn’t think it would happen again.
There was Dog Two, who reached out to me at the same time as Dog One. But when he told me he was a director in the construction industry, I wondered why rich young men had suddenly found me. Very dubious.
We didn’t spend much time talking, maybe because he knew I was already speaking to somebody else. At that point, he sort of faded into the background, although we spoke on and off.
But two months later, I met Dog Three. I think he looked through my profile before he approached me, because the first thing he said to me was: “It seems like you’re a foodie.”