Adam Iza Called Himself The Godfather and Had Deputies on the Payroll

Adam Iza was 26 when he was sentenced to 15 years for a violent Bitcoin robbery and kidnapping. The part that made his case extraordinary was not the carjacking. It was how many sworn Los Angeles County sheriff's deputies went down with him.

Adam Iza called himself The Godfather. For a while he had the sheriff's deputies to match.

On September 9, 2026, Adam Iza was sentenced to 180 months in federal prison followed by three years of supervised release. Fifteen years. He was 26 years old, and he had spent the previous two of them in federal custody.

The sentence came out of the District of Connecticut, for a crime committed in Danbury on August 25, 2024. Six men from Florida violently carjacked a Lamborghini Urus and kidnapped both of the people inside it. That is the offence Iza was sentenced for, and on its own it would be a grim but not unusual entry in this section: crypto wealth is portable, untraceable once moved, and increasingly extracted by people willing to put hands on the person who holds the keys.

What separates Iza from every other violent crypto robbery CMZ has documented is what his case pulled in behind it.

Iza styled himself as a cryptocurrency mogul and went by The Godfather. His federal prosecution, which ran across two jurisdictions, ensnared several former Los Angeles County sheriff's deputies. Not officers who looked the other way. Officers who worked for him.

One former deputy, Michael David Coberg, is serving 63 months in federal prison for helping Iza extort a rival and orchestrate the sham arrest of another adversary in Paramount in 2021. Read that twice. A sworn deputy used the apparatus of law enforcement, with its power to detain a person and place them in a cell, to arrest somebody on behalf of a private client who wanted them out of the way. Another former deputy, Simpkins, was sentenced in July 2026 to 18 months after pleading guilty to obstruction of justice for lying to federal investigators about an alleged $25,000 extortion.

Iza pleaded guilty in California in January 2025 to conspiracy against rights, wire fraud and tax evasion. That first charge is the one that matters most and the one least likely to be understood. Conspiracy against rights is the federal offence for depriving someone of a constitutional right under colour of law. It is the statute used against officials who abuse state authority against a citizen. Iza was not an official. He pleaded guilty to it anyway, because the deputies he had bought were, and he was the one directing them.

So the arc runs like this. A young man accumulates crypto wealth. He uses it to purchase not just protection but actual state power, in the form of badged officers who will detain his enemies and lie to investigators for him. When someone finally has something he wants badly enough, that machinery escalates to a carjacking and a kidnapping in a Connecticut town two and a half thousand miles from his base.

The reason this belongs in a crypto archive rather than a general crime one is the asset class. Nothing about buying a police officer is new. What crypto supplied was the specific combination that made it viable at 24 years old with no organisation behind him: wealth accumulated fast, held in an asset nobody could freeze, transferable instantly and without a bank asking questions, in amounts large enough that a public-sector salary looks negotiable. A kid with a wallet and no institution, paying sworn deputies in something no compliance department would ever see.

Iza has been in custody since September 2024. The deputies are serving their sentences. The two people who were pulled out of that Lamborghini in Danbury are not named in any of the court documents, which is appropriate, and which also means the only people in this story whose lives were most directly wrecked are the only ones nobody can look up.