A man who stole tens of millions of dollars from professional athletes, blew it on private jets and luxury hotels, and then tried to coach victims and wipe evidence off his phone, also tried to get married in federal custody for a hundred bucks to avoid deportation. Siddharth Jawahar, 38, was sentenced this week to 11 years in prison for a Ponzi scheme that defrauded Kansas City Chiefs star Travis Kelce and a roster of other investors. The wedding, at least, did not happen.

The Scheme, the Scale, and the NFL Star

From July 2016 through December 2023, Jawahar ran a Texas-based firm called Swiftarc Capital LLC and pulled in more than $35 million from investors, according to the U.S. attorney's office. Of that, prosecutors say he actually invested roughly $10 million. The rest funded the lifestyle of a man who never graduated college but had apparently decided that private club memberships and luxury hotels were his birthright.

NBC News reports that Jawahar pleaded guilty in January to three counts of wire fraud and was this week sentenced to 11 years in federal prison and ordered to repay $31 million in restitution. It was during the St. Louis sentencing hearing that a prosecutor mentioned Travis Kelce by name as one of the victims. Kelce has not commented publicly. His bank account, presumably, has feelings about it.

Beyond Kelce, a Forbes article from June 2021 named NBA players Gary Harris, Tim Hardaway Jr., and Mason Plumlee as investors in Jawahar's venture capital fund. Gary Harris was quoted at the time saying he was 'thankful for Sid bringing me in, taking me under his wing.' That quote reads differently now. NBC News reached out to all three players' agents and received no response.

The $100 Wedding Plan

Here is where this story departs from ordinary financial crime and enters something else entirely. Before sentencing, Jawahar asked the court for permission to marry Caroline Tredway, a woman he met in 2021 who lives near Cleveland. The proposed budget for this union: $25 for a ring, $75 for an officiant. Federal prosecutors blocked it, filing documents on September 4 arguing he may be attempting 'to obtain immigration status in the United States.'

Jawahar's attorney, Doug Passon, insisted this was not marriage fraud, which is exactly what someone committing marriage fraud would say, but also argued the relationship was genuine. Tredway wrote a letter to the court saying their first date was 'the best date of both of our lives' and that she enters the marriage 'with my eyes completely open to Sid's legal situation.' That is doing a lot of work as a sentence.

The part that prosecutors definitely noticed: a monitored phone call from June 30 in which Tredway asked Jawahar directly, 'What if you get deported?' His response, per court records reported by NBC News, was: 'If you don't marry me, I guess that might happen.' He then told her the 'chance of me getting deported goes down dramatically' if they married. That is not a love story. That is a filing.

The Congressman Gambit and the Favorable Press

The attempted jailhouse wedding was not Jawahar's only play. In August, prosecutors say, he paid a Missouri political consulting firm called Axiom $10,000 to pressure U.S. Rep. Sam Graves, a Republican, into writing a letter of support to the judge handling his case. NBC News reports that Axiom also arranged for a favorable article about Jawahar to run in a local newspaper. That article, somehow, did not mention that the subject was awaiting sentencing for defrauding investors of tens of millions of dollars.

So to be clear about the sequence: steal $31 million, blow it on private jets, get arrested, pay a political fixer ten grand to get a congressman to vouch for you to a federal judge, have friendly press planted in a local paper. This is a full-service corruption operation running on the side of a full-service fraud operation.

Wiping Phones, Coaching Victims, and Future Plans to Teach Ethics

Prosecutors also say Jawahar tried to coach a victim into giving a favorable statement to authorities and asked his sister to wipe his iPhone. Both are the kinds of things that tend to make judges less sympathetic at sentencing, which may explain how 'close to time served' became 11 years.

In a recorded conversation with Tredway's relatives, Jawahar said he expected a light sentence and planned to 'focus on getting a pardon' afterward, citing what he called 'gross violations of the law' in his prosecution. Then, per NBC News, he said his next move would likely be 'teaching a class in business ethics at Fordham University.' That is real. That is a quote from a monitored call. A man who stole $31 million, coached witnesses, hid evidence, paid a political fixer, and tried to use marriage as a deportation shield, told people he planned to teach ethics. At a university. For money.

Who Is This Guy, Actually

Jawahar arrived in the United States from India around fall 2005, when he began studying government and philosophy at the University of Texas. He took classes there as recently as spring 2012 but never received a degree, a university spokesperson confirmed to NBC News. He is, per prosecutors, undocumented.

The years between dropping out and launching Swiftarc are murky. What is not murky is what the company became: a classic Ponzi structure, paying old investors with new investor money while Jawahar pocketed the difference and spent it on an existence that bore no relationship to the returns he was promising. U.S. District Judge Zachary Bluestone called the losses 'enormous.' The restitution order of $31 million suggests he was not wrong.

The Dingo Take

You are supposed to believe this man planned, all along, to teach business ethics at Fordham University. Sit with that. A guy who ran a fraud operation for seven years, sucked in professional athletes with enough money to know better, paid a political consulting firm to shake a sitting congressman into writing him a character reference, tried to marry someone in federal custody for a hundred dollars to avoid deportation, and asked his sister to destroy evidence. That guy. Ethics professor. At Fordham.

The Travis Kelce angle will dominate the headlines because that is how celebrity adjacent crime works, but the more interesting story is the sheer industriousness of Jawahar's scheming after the scheme collapsed. Most fraudsters, when caught, go quiet and let their lawyers work. This man hired a PR firm, worked a political fixer, courted a witness, planned a jailhouse wedding, and apparently spent his monitored phone time pitching himself as an academic. The hustle never stopped. It just pivoted from stealing money to stealing outcomes.

He got 11 years and a $31 million restitution bill he will almost certainly never pay, and faces deportation at the end of it. The business ethics course is probably not happening. The $25 ring is still out there somewhere, un-bought, waiting. Somewhere in Cleveland, Caroline Tredway is not returning NBC News calls. And Travis Kelce, who has said nothing publicly, is probably playing football and trying very hard not to think about any of this.

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