Michael Gerold’s apartment was like nothing Emilia London had seen before. Perched on the 22nd floor of a Financial District high-rise, it had eight balconies with views of the Bay Bridge. He poured drinks from two stocked bars. Gerold, who grew up in the affluent East Bay hills, referred to the place as his “flat.” London thought that was charming.
London met Gerold in August 2021 — a chance encounter while she was dating another man. She was with a “cute guy from Santa Cruz,” and they’d hit the city for a spontaneous night. They ended up at the North Beach club Twist. To London, the club felt a little dirty — the kind of place where couples sometimes have sex in public or end up swapping partners. But Gerold and the woman he was with seemed classy. They invited London and her date back to his apartment in the Financial District.
There, they drank tequila, took in the views, and swapped partners. London found herself alone with Gerold in his bedroom.
But the relationship that began as a wild night among consenting adults soon became much stranger.
London had never spent much time in San Francisco. She was born and raised in semi-rural Auburn, in the Sierra Nevada foothills. She worked as a nursing assistant in hospice care and dreamed of owning a farm. She rarely shaved her armpits and had never owned a pair of heels.
And then she was with a charismatic older man, on top of the world, surrounded by apparent wealth she’d never experienced.
After London went home the next morning, the texts came in. The night was amazing, Gerold said. Come back and visit. Spend the weekend. She was 26; he was 53.
London and Gerold on the roof at the members-only Amador Club in February 2022. | Source: Emilia London
London and Gerold at the Ritz-Carlton Spa in Lake Tahoe in January 2022. | Source: Emilia London
For decades, Gerold moved easily through some of the city’s most exclusive spaces — both newer, tech-driven circles of wealth and older networks of power. In recent years, Gerold frequented members-only social clubs, including the Modernist, the Amador, and the Battery. He’s been photographed with former Mayor London Breed, restaurateur Michael Mina, and New York Knicks coach Mike Brown.
According to records and interviews, he has been invited to at least two private gatherings at the highly secretive and storied Bohemian Grove, the forested Sonoma stomping ground of political and business elites. The Bohemian Club declined to comment on its members.
Then there’s what Gerold claims is his well-connected friend group, the “Warrior Kings” — a set of wealthy, influential men, several of them in Silicon Valley, who travel the world together and socialize at five-star resorts, exclusive gatherings, and a private island.
London wasn’t looking for a wealthy man to take care of her, but she found Gerold intriguing.
London said Gerold told her he was a wounded Army veteran who had made a hefty sum selling real estate. “I didn‘t question it,” she said. He had done well, so he didn’t have to work. “That was that.”
In September 2021, London visited Gerold for her 27th birthday. He took her out to dinner at Kokkari Estiatorio, where they both ordered red wine and lamb chops. London took selfies when the food arrived. She’s grinning into the camera with her entire face. Across the table, Gerold smiles, dressed in a plaid suit, a Rolex on his wrist. He picked up the bill: $289.23.
Source: Emilia London
Over the next few months, Gerold took London to private dinner parties and as his guest at members-only social clubs. They stayed at the Ritz-Carlton in Lake Tahoe and went resort-hopping in Hawaii. They dined at a rotation of high-end restaurants where everyone seemed to know him. London said she’d often get stuck with the bill but didn’t complain — she thought that’s just something that happens with rich people.
London learned the rules — no beat-up sneakers at fancy clubs, no taking pictures after a certain hour. Gerold, who goes by “Mickey,” gave her a nickname — “Mimi” — and introduced her as such to his network of beautiful women and important men. She said he took her to get her nails done and suggested she start wearing makeup.
In the evenings, London said, Gerold would organize sexual experiences for them — threesomes, foursomes. In November, Gerold debuted her on his Instagram grid, calling her his “life changing angel” and “muse.”
“I fell in love with him,” London said. There was a sparkle to his personality. “He spoke to me in a way that made me feel like I belonged to him,” she said. “Like I was special.”
London said Gerold asked her to move in — she wouldn’t have to pay rent. She could take City College classes, get a nursing degree. By March 2022, the 22nd-floor apartment with the dazzling bay views had become her home.
But London would soon learn that the fantasy life she’d been living was conditional and temporary. She said Gerold told her he needed money, fast — and that he had an idea of how to get it.
Over the next two years, London alleges, Gerold asserted control over her life and arranged for her to have sex with men for money to fund his lifestyle — claims she detailed in sworn court testimony and associated records. London alleges that in just over two years, Gerold earned more than $100,000 by coercing her into having sex for pay.
Source: Photos courtesy of Emilia London
Thousands of pages of records reviewed by The Standard — including court records, a spreadsheet used to track the men London saw, text messages, calendar appointments, and bank records showing a trail of electronic transfers and cash deposits — depict what appears to be Gerold organizing, scheduling, and collecting proceeds from London’s paid sexual encounters.
London’s experience is part of a broader pattern of reported sexual exploitation, assault, and abuse by Gerold. Former partners and associates described a consistent cycle of charm, deception, and financial exploitation. For years, allegations have surfaced across courts, the military, and private clubs. Most were ignored or dismissed. Survivors of sexual abuse who come forward with allegations risk their reputations but rarely see accountability.
A police report filed in October 2025 and reviewed by The Standard lists Gerold as a suspect for sexual assault and administering drugs to commit a felony, and identifies 10 victims.
According to San Francisco Police Department’s Special Victims Unit inspector Tony Flores, Gerold is considered a suspect in an ongoing investigation. The Standard reviewed months of police reports and communications regarding the investigation. Gerold has not been charged with any crimes.
‘He’s like the Epstein of the West.’
Anthony Alfidi, a former San Francisco Veterans Affairs commissioner
Sources who spoke with The Standard, including Gerold’s exes, former friends, family members, and acquaintances, said they fear retaliation for speaking out. They referred to Gerold’s powerful social network in San Francisco and his repeated threats of legal action.
The men who allegedly paid London for sex included heads of tech companies, hedge fund managers, and finance VPs, according to records reviewed by The Standard.
A few of Gerold’s critics have likened him to more elite, powerful, and convicted sex offenders, including Jeffrey Epstein and Harvey Weinstein. “He’s like the Epstein of the West,” said Anthony Alfidi, a former San Francisco Veterans Affairs commissioner who has tried to expose Gerold’s reported wrongdoings in the military community for nearly two decades.
Gerold denied all the allegations against him. He called them “demonstrably false.”
He said that all of his accusers are lying and that some are mentally ill and drug-addicted. Soon after The Standard sent Gerold a list of questions, his attorney sent emails threatening defamation lawsuits against at least six individuals. Gerold subsequently filed a domestic violence restraining order against London. A temporary order was granted, but Gerold has yet to serve her or appear in court. He said that if The Standard reported on allegations against him, he would sue the women who have come forward, as well as The Standard.
London detailed her allegations against Gerold in declarations and testimony last summer at San Francisco family court, in an attempt to secure a domestic violence restraining order against him. She said she had never intended to speak out publicly — but doing so has given her a sense of relief.
“It feels good to be part of something that will hopefully change how things are tolerated in the city.”
On the stand, London said Gerold first arranged for her to have sex for pay shortly after she moved into his apartment in 2022.
Given how they’d lived for months, she said, she was shocked when Gerold told her he was broke, his assets tied up in a messy divorce and inaccessible accounts.
London told The Standard that Gerold created a profile for her on the “sugar dating” website Seeking, formerly known as Seeking Arrangements. She testified that he handled the messaging himself, communicating with men and arranging for them to meet her at his apartment and have sex with her in the guest bedroom.
London told The Standard that after the first time she had sex for pay, in early 2022, Gerold took her to buy a pair of Prada boots with the $2,000 in cash she’d received. She said this was the only time he allowed her to keep any of what she earned.
At first, London said, Gerold framed the work as temporary — just enough for next month’s rent. She trusted him.
“I thought it could be over soon,” she testified. “It never ended.“
London told The Standard that Gerold “had a whole order of operations” for her to follow, including meeting the men in front of the building to accompany them past security. London testified that the men typically paid between $800 and $1,200 for an hour to 90 minutes. London said that after the men paid for sex, she was to slip the cash under the door to Gerold’s bedroom.
“I knew it was the wrong thing. I knew I was hurting myself,” London told The Standard. “But I didn’t trust that gut feeling.” Instead, she stayed.
While prostitution remains a crime in California, SFPD has focused its efforts on pursuing pimps and traffickers, who can face felony charges. SFPD representatives have said that police view all sex workers as victims of abuse and human trafficking (opens in new tab).
London testified that she was coerced into having sex for money nearly their entire relationship, estimating that she had sex with men for money anywhere from five to 15 times a month — at least 60 times over roughly a year and a half.
The Standard reviewed London’s digital calendar, which listed 118 appointments from March 2022 to February 2024 labeled “PT,” short for “personal training,” the code phrase Gerold created for the act, London said. All but 15 of the appointments were made or accepted by accounts belonging to Gerold.
The entries list full names, Seeking profiles, phone numbers, and descriptions: “Retired finance guy” or “Ritz Carlton guy.” About a third of the appointments list a location — most of them Gerold’s apartment or a condo in Lafayette owned by his family.
Among the more than 60 men listed in the calendar appointments linked to Gerold’s account are the names of venture capitalists, investment bankers, and a biotech CEO. The Standard is withholding their names because there is no evidence that these men knew London was allegedly being trafficked.
After about five months, London testified that the work had gotten so busy that Gerold created a client-tracking spreadsheet with information about 21 men. Metadata of the spreadsheet shows it was created in June 2022. Photos of 15 men were uploaded before London was given editing access in November.
London’s calendar appointments.
Gerold denies creating or managing the Seeking profile, calendar, or spreadsheet. He claims London used his computer and accounts, and the calendar appointments were either fabricated or created without his knowledge.
He told The Standard that the only spreadsheet he is aware of was one he created to track London’s movements and try to determine who she was in contact with “by using phone numbers in her phone” and searching them in reverse-phone-number search sites. Gerold said he did this because he “was concerned for [London’s] safety.”
On July 20, 2022, Gerold texted London from the garage of their building: “Please send me a picture. It’s very very important that you star profiles and send pictures before please.”
On Aug. 2, 2022, the calendar shows a 90-minute appointment ending at 5:15 p.m. That day, London texted Gerold: “He is taking his second shower, we are finished, end time is 5:15.” Next text: “Should I Venmo you the cash or wait?”
Beginning in 2020 and throughout his relationship with London, Gerold was mired in divorce proceedings against his former wife, Lisa. They’d been married for nearly eight years.
Throughout the proceedings, Gerold repeatedly testified in court and submitted sworn financial disclosures that he had no income beyond Social Security and veterans disability benefits. In those filings, he reported being unemployed for more than a decade and disclosed no wages, business income, or cash assets. The court subpoenaed his First Republic and Chase bank statements.
While reviewing them line-by-line with her attorney, Lisa noticed something strange, she said.
“In 2022, I started seeing all these cash deposits. I’m like, ‘Huh, that’s interesting,’” she said. “And that’s when we saw Emilia’s name.”
Source: Photos courtesy of Emilia London
London transferred a total of $31,638 to Gerold electronically via Zelle, Apple Pay, and Venmo from April 2022 to April 2024, according to The Standard’s review of her financial records and Gerold’s bank statements that were used as evidence in his divorce. London told The Standard she believes the total is even higher, because she said she sent payments through accounts she no longer has access to.
She said that the majority of men paid in cash.
Between January 2022 and January 2024, Gerold deposited approximately $84,000 in cash at ATMs and bank branches, primarily near his residence and places where London was scheduled to meet the men she saw. He deposited cash over 90 times, with the average deposit around $900.
In the two years before beginning his relationship with London, Gerold received about $11,500 in cash and peer-to-peer transfers. During the two-year period in which London said she was coerced into turning over money from sex, those transfers and cash deposits totaled more than $137,000.
‘In 2022, I started seeing all these cash deposits. I’m like, ‘Huh, that’s interesting.’ And that’s when we saw Emilia’s name.’
Lisa Gerold
In a statement to The Standard, Gerold said London’s “allegation that she gave me cash in exchange for sex from clients is completely false.” He said London asked to use his bank account to hold her money and that she paid him for rent and shared household expenses. He said family and friends gave him gifts of cash due to his ongoing divorce.
Over a three-day trial in 2024, Lisa’s attorney questioned Gerold about the increase in cash deposits and electronic transfers. Gerold testified that the money came from “generous friends and family.”
In his February 2025 decision, Judge Russell Roeca found that Gerold “lacks credibility around his financial circumstances in general” and that he had “made glaring inconsistencies in his responses to questions at trial.” Roeca concluded that Gerold had intentionally underreported income and gifts while maintaining what the court described as an “expensive lifestyle and upper-class standard of living.”
Bank records show Gerold spent nearly all the money he had coming in on rent for his apartment and on bars, restaurants, travel, clothes, and private club memberships.
Privately, London kept a journal, often writing in poems. An entry from May 2022 reads: “I feel less than half of a person / Someone told me once / I’m worth more than this skin suit / But when it makes me money / when it makes me desirable / when it has become the foundation of my identity / when I am out of commission / what’s left to be seen?”
London said Gerold grew increasingly controlling over her movements and communications.
She told The Standard that in October 2022, he tried to take her phone, and she tripped in the hallway of the apartment while trying to get it back. She testified that she injured her knee and couldn’t have sex with men for money to give to Gerold for a month. “He made me feel like shit about that,” she told The Standard. “I felt so worthless.”
Gerold told The Standard that “no such altercation occurred” and called London a “pathological liar.”
In December 2022, another journal entry: “Are you a big red flag / or am I just color blind?”
As their relationship went on, London grew thin and no longer recognized herself in the mirror.
On Oct. 24, 2023, London was scheduled for three appointments. She texted Gerold, “I should be finished with pt around 9:30 or 10:00pm tonight. I would like to see you before but that’s obviously not happening. Not sure if I will be up for anything after.”
“Stop being dramatic,” Gerold responded. “You‘re escalating rather than gently communicating.”
London replied, “One day it will be lovely to be around me again and you will want to fuck me like everyone else pays to do.”
When they first met, London searched Gerold’s name online. She found flattering biographies describing him as a decorated military veteran, successful real estate investor, and civic leader.
Interviews with people familiar with Gerold, along with court records, military documents, photos, financial records, and correspondence tell a different story — and a harder one to find. Gerold and his mother, Adriana, have paid nearly $20,000 to ReputationDefender, an online reputation-management company, to suppress negative search results for his name, according to small-claims court records and Gerold’s bank statements.
Gerold served in the U.S. Army, but his military career was bookended by scandal. In 1999, he was accused of raping 22-year-old West Point graduate Becca Stachel. After a nearly six-month-long investigation (opens in new tab), he was charged in military court with rape and indecent assault, but the charges were later dismissed (opens in new tab) for lack of evidence. Last summer, Stachel told The Standard, she underwent intensive therapy at the Department of Veterans Affairs for the trauma she said she experienced as a result of the reported assault.
“I don’t think I had really processed the trauma of not feeling supported, of not feeling believed,” she said.
Gerold denied assaulting Stachel in 1999 and again to The Standard.
In 2010, the Army opened an investigation into Gerold over allegations that he had falsely claimed military honors he hadn’t earned. Gerold medically retired from the military 15 days after the investigation began, meaning the Army lost jurisdiction to prosecute him. Nonetheless, the investigation went on and concluded that Gerold wore military awards he never received, including a Bronze Star and a Purple Heart.
In a statement to The Standard, Gerold’s attorney called the accusations that he had falsely claimed military honors “bogus,” said they had “been debunked,” and claimed the investigation concluded that Gerold “did not engage in any wrongdoing.”
The investigating officer, Aaron Davis, wrote in a report (opens in new tab) that he was “inclined to view [Gerold’s] entire career as suspect” and recommended that Gerold be prosecuted and investigated for fraud.
“There’s just too much about this cat that stinks,” Davis told The Standard.
For years, Gerold had leveraged his status as a war hero to elevate his social and political standing in San Francisco. He rose through the ranks of the American Legion and accepted thousands of dollars in donations for a veterans nonprofit organization but never reported what he did with the funds, according to meeting minutes and official reports from San Francisco’s American Legion War Memorial Commission. In 2010, he was appointed by California’s then-governor, Arnold Schwarzenegger, to lead a program through the state’s Department of Veterans Affairs.
After the Army’s investigation, the American Legion permanently expelled Gerold for misuse of public funds and abuse of authority. His VA appointment was rescinded. His alma mater, University of San Francisco, described him as “an alumnus, albeit not one in good standing” and said his conduct was “reprehensible” in a letter from USF’s general counsel to a SF Commissioner of Veteran Affairs.
Gerold denies that USF severed its relationship with him, as the letter stated. He told The Standard he was invited to be a guest speaker at USF in recent years and is a “frequent speaker at the Veteran’s Administration Medical Center.”
The Standard interviewed five of Gerold’s former wives, girlfriends, and fiancées who were in relationships with him between 1997 and 2025. All the women described a pattern of behavior marked by intense love-bombing followed by emotional and financial abuse.
Gerold and his ex-wife Lisa.
Gerold’s first wife, Kathy, said he didn’t work, spent freely on her dime, asked her to perform sexual acts she had no desire to be a part of, and left her in serious debt. She said he had an obsession with firearms. He denied all of her claims.
All the women said he routinely exaggerated his finances. Two women said he invited them on trips only to “forget” his credit card, promising repayment that never came. Lisa reported being coerced into liquidating her retirement account after he promised repayment from a family trust that never materialized. In her divorce trial, the court found the retirement funds were withdrawn with Gerold’s “full knowledge, support, and request,” and were spent on marital expenses and community debt.
To The Standard, Gerold denied that he coerced any ex-wife to empty their retirement account.
Court records show that Gerold was ordered to pay Lisa just shy of $190,000 by March 2025. He has yet to pay any of the debt, which has incurred interest and fees — as of February 2026, he owes more than $208,000.
“He is a master manipulator, and he will lie about everything to get his way,” said Lisa.
His ex-fiancée Charity Hendrick, who dated Gerold beginning in 2006, said nearly everything in their relationship revolved around Gerold’s sexual pursuits. She said he asked her to work as a stripper. She described feeling “like a prisoner.” In 2009, after she said she discovered an envelope in his safe containing a childhood photo of her labeled “number one priority and project,” she fled with only a small suitcase, took a Greyhound bus to another state, and changed her name.
“It felt like survival,” she said.
Gerold denied asking a former partner to be a stripper. He said “multiple women” who spoke to The Standard “have made false accusations.”
In 2023, a woman requested a restraining order against Gerold in nearby Contra Costa County. She claimed Gerold harassed her daily for two months. She wrote in her declaration, “I cannot go on in my life alone knowing this man, Michael Gerold, is not held accountable for actions.” The order was not granted. Gerold told The Standard the woman was a tenant evicted from the Lafayette condo.
By the time London might have asked more probing questions, she said, she was already deeply entangled in the life Gerold had built around her and the curated, polished version of himself he showed to the public.
Gerold and London presented as a happy, adventurous couple. They regularly socialized with Gerold’s friends; they went to Burning Man together. They’d frequently visit London’s parents, Brad and Liz, in Auburn and host them in San Francisco. “Everybody knew who he was,” Liz said. “It was like he was Mr. San Francisco.”
Gerold regularly texted her parents updates on London, often sounding paternal.
“She is very focused, Mom and Dad,” he wrote in August 2022.
“Our darling Emmy is safe,” he wrote in January 2023.
Her parents believed what he told them — that he was a rich businessman with a mighty trust fund who would support their daughter’s education and livelihood.
“He said he wanted to protect her from the evils of the big city,” Brad said. “He said he had a group of friends in the San Francisco area — rich ex-military — who were going to help.”
Gerold called this group the “Warrior Kings.” The group functioned as a kind of a brotherhood, London said — a circle of men who vacationed together and protected one another. On the stand, Gerold described them as “former special-ops guys” and “private-sector people.”
In early 2024, London and Gerold visited the five-star Rosewood Sand Hill resort in Menlo Park for what she said was a “Warrior Kings” gathering. In a photo, they are seen posing with Tim Draper, a prominent venture capitalist; Tom Lithgow, who owns a private island in Tanzania; Alfred Mandel, a Silicon Valley investor; Brad Miller, a tech executive; Dr. John Rabkin, a liver transplant surgeon; and Dr. David Mohler, a Stanford surgeon.
London, Gerold, and the “Warrior Kings.” | Source: Emilia London
Draper said he didn’t know Gerold or London. The other men did not respond to requests for comment. There is no evidence that they knew of London’s allegations against Gerold at the time.
In the photo, London wears a tiny white dress and teeters on tall, white platform heels. Her hair is dyed blond. Mohler is draped around her on one side, Gerold on the other.
Looking at the photo, London barely recognizes herself. “It’s like I have a dead face,” she told The Standard. “Like I’m not really there.”
London felt trapped. She told The Standard that Gerold had security cameras set up around the apartment to film her every move. The Standard reviewed photos of cameras in the apartment, and bank records confirm that Gerold paid a monthly subscription to Arlo, a camera security system. The apartment cameras are mentioned in communication with the SFPD.
Gerold said he has cameras only in the apartment’s living room facing the front door.
London’s mental state worsened as the relationship went on. By the fall of 2023, she had dropped out of her college classes. She constantly felt sick and sad, she said.
“I have never had this much terrible, painful, consistent stress and anxiety in my life,” she texted Gerold in October 2023. “I don‘t know what is going on but it is not good. I feel [a] serious toll being taken out of me.”
“You are just in a much better place than ever and small stresses you used to manage are now appearing to be larger,” Gerold wrote back.
London testified that in January 2024, she told Gerold she wanted to move out, and he offered his family’s condo in Lafayette. She hoped it would improve her situation, but the calendar appointments continued — and she was even more isolated.
“I felt like I was in a hole,” London told The Standard. “I couldn’t imagine what choices I had or what my life could look like outside of it.”
By April, she had built up the courage to leave. She called her parents and asked if she could move home to Auburn. Within eight hours, her parents and younger brother were at her door with a U-Haul.
On the drive north, London told her brother what had happened. They both cried.
‘I knew it was the wrong thing. I knew I was hurting myself. But I didn’t trust that gut feeling.’
Emilia London
Over the following nine months, Gerold repeatedly tried to contact London and her family. The Standard reviewed more than 130 messages he sent. Gerold was sometimes apologetic, often aggressive, while continuing to post to social media old photos of the two together. To her father, he referred to London as “that little girl” and called her a liar.
Gerold threatened London with legal action for speaking about her allegations against him. He asserted his relationship with the “Warrior Kings,” who he said were advising him on how to counter her story.
“The faux legal case strategy and fantasy you guys came up with was run through DA‘s office’s and a former U.S. Attorney. All Warrior Kings,” he messaged her. “They assembled everything I need.”
He also wrote about a man in San Francisco whom London had started dating, Kristopher Floyd.
“I‘m gonna go after him with everything I’ve got,” Gerold messaged London. “He’s the complete focus of my wrath.”
“In about two weeks he’ll be dead to everybody,” he messaged her father.
What had looked like a fairy-tale story — a rich man promising to take care of their daughter for the rest of her life — turned out to be something else entirely. “It was all a sham,” said Brad.
To this day, London’s father can’t even say Gerold’s name. He calls him “the vermin.”
By February 2025, London had had enough. She filed in San Francisco Superior Court for a domestic violence restraining order against Gerold. A temporary order of protection was granted: Gerold was ordered to stay 100 yards away from London at all times, not contact her, and relinquish his firearms.
In San Francisco, most domestic violence cases never lead to criminal charges or convictions. Law enforcement and advocates often steer survivors to family court, where restraining orders carry a lower legal threshold than criminal cases. But survivors typically file at the most dangerous point in an abusive relationship — after leaving — and the hearings can be grueling. The power dynamics of an abusive relationship do not disappear in a courtroom.
For London, the temporary restraining order was a miracle — Gerold largely stopped contacting her or harassing her family. She wanted the court to extend it for five years.
In court filings, Gerold denied all of London’s allegations. He called the restraining order a “frivolous” attempt to “humiliate” him. He said it would prevent him from his work “in politics and brokering real estate transactions in San Francisco” — contradicting his own court filings in his divorce around the same time, in which he reported being unemployed. The Standard found no record of Gerold in the California Department of Real Estate’s public license database.
He wrote that London had a history of drug use, is bipolar, and worked as a prostitute in Oregon before they met — all of which she denies.
Most striking was the discrepancy in dates. In court filings and testimony, Gerold claimed he met and started dating London in August 2022. He attached a screenshot of her Seeking profile from January 2022 to prove London had engaged in prostitution before they met.
Photos, text messages, bank records, Gerold’s own social media posts, and legal documents he later filed show they met in 2021. In response to questions about the start of their relationship, Gerold told The Standard, “London and I began dating in August 2021.”
The case was assigned to Judge Carolyn Gold, who’d been moved to family court just a few weeks prior, following a spate of prosecutorial challenges against her handling of criminal cases.
London requested a closed and confidential hearing, which Gold denied. On the first full day of testimony, a broken microphone on the witness stand forced London to testify from the clerk’s desk, a few feet from the man she was seeking protection from. Shortly after London was sworn in, Gold, seemingly curious about the “private social clubs” of which Gerold was a member, interrupted London’s testimony and swore in Gerold to ask him about them.
The rest of the hearings followed a similar pattern.
Hearings on domestic violence restraining orders are supposed to focus on allegations of abuse during the relationship — physical, emotional, financial, sexual. But over two full days of testimony in London’s restraining order proceedings in August and September, nearly all the oxygen in the room went to Gerold: his reputation, his work, and what he said he stood to lose.
On the stand, Gerold wore a blue suit with a pocket square and lapel pin. He spoke of his downtown high-rise and said he attended so many galas it was hard to distinguish one from another. He referenced the “Warrior Kings.” He said all of San Francisco knows “these rumors” about him.
“I’ve held two offices here in San Francisco in Veterans Affairs matters, and sadly, I’ve been designated as a public figure,” Gerold testified. “I don’t have much protection against smear campaigns.”
Gerold said a restraining order against him would threaten his “business development” work for the Amador club. Gerold said he had “built out” the business, along with others. Amador owner Evan Krow told The Standard that Gerold has never been employed by the club.
Gerold denied ever soliciting London for prostitution. Gold refused to let London introduce bank records showing the transfer of money from her to Gerold. Gold also wouldn’t consider the Army’s investigation into reports that Gerold had falsely claimed military honors. The investigation had been admitted as evidence of Gerold’s character in his divorce that had concluded a few months prior in the same courthouse, down the hall.
While Gerold sparkled on the stand, London shrunk in her seat. At times she froze, appearing evasive, and couldn’t remember dates and details. She bit her nails. She alternately appeared emotionally blank and visibly upset.
Gold said she’d need a couple weeks to decide if the permanent restraining order would be granted.
In the meantime, on Sept. 27, 2025, London went to a friend’s birthday party at the Modernist club, where owners had elected not to renew Gerold’s membership due to complaints from members and staff. Gerold showed up and wouldn’t leave. London called the police to report a restraining order violation. According to the incident report, the SFPD couldn’t find the restraining order on file.
On Sept. 29, Gold denied London’s petition for a permanent restraining order. In her ruling, she wrote that London had “voluntarily engaged in a prostitution website in 2022″ and that the court heard no credible evidence that Gerold forced her to “continue to engage in this website or pay any proceeds from prostitution.”
Gold found that Gerold’s text messages were not threatening, writing that it was understandable he would contact London about what “he perceived as a smear campaign against him.”
Gold believed Gerold, not London.
In the days that followed, London had nightmares. She felt crushed. She replayed her testimony, wondering if she had said the wrong thing or too little, questioning if she had made a mistake coming forward at all.
London didn’t know it at the time, but her testimony had put something else in motion. After word spread that allegations against Gerold surfaced in open court, other women came forward with reports about their own experiences with him. An SFPD report from October 2025 lists 10 alleged victims of drugging or rape. London is one of them. Police also received at least one additional report of an alleged rape arranged by Gerold in 2025.
The SFPD’s SVU is investigating Gerold in connection with these and additional allegations of sexual assault and exploitation.
“The courage for an individual to come forward, we understand, is a lot — especially the unknown, the process,” said Inspector Flores, who leads the SVU’s human trafficking team. “We encourage folks to come forward and tell us their story. It’s our job to prove or disprove the facts.”
In response to questions from The Standard, Gerold said, “I have never drugged any woman at a private club or elsewhere.” He denied all of the allegations. He said the women were lying and were possibly part of a conspiracy against him.
The allegations against Gerold have begun to fracture his standing within the city’s private clubs and exclusive social networks where he was once a fixture.
The members-only Amador club received numerous complaints from employees and guests about Gerold touching women inappropriately and acting with impunity, according to internal club records reviewed by The Standard. At least three private and public clubs banned or severed ties with Gerold in the last two years, according to interviews with owners and employees.
London is in contact with the SFPD. And she’s slowly beginning to feel like herself again.
In the nearly two years since her relationship with Gerold ended, she chopped off the last strands of the dyed blond hair. She still has recurring nightmares about Gerold, but she’s working on repairing relationships with friends whom she said he pushed away. She moved into her own apartment and has started writing music again. And she’s enjoying a quieter life. She’s re-reading “The Body Keeps the Score,” a book about the physical experience of emotional trauma.
“People ask me now why it took so long to get out. It’s because I didn’t believe in myself,” she said. “Your body tells you when you’re in the wrong place. You just have to listen to it. I wish I had listened earlier.”
San Francisco’s Mayor’s Office for Victims’ Rights (opens in new tab) offers confidential support to victims of sexual assault and sexual harassment.
