by Tereza Cruvinel
The truth takes time, but it always comes out. It is now exposing grave facts about Flávio Bolsonaro’s recent, murky past, including influence peddling, taking gifts, participating in orgies and other illicit conduct. Rodrigo Rangel laid all of this out in a richly detailed investigation for the news site PlatôBR.
The major outlets have largely ignored these revelations, which include a Rolex watch worth $59,200 and a lobbyist who systematically covered Bolsonaro’s personal expenses. In the 24 hours after PlatôBR published its report, the major newspapers, their websites and TV networks were quick to amplify a different story instead: journalist Malu Gaspar’s report in O Globo, which claimed that businesswoman Roberta Luchsinger funded a $349,500 trip to Scandinavia for President Lula’s son, Fábio Luís, and his family. That story, too, relied on a selective leak from the Federal Police.
Brazilian right-wing presidential candidate Flávio Bolsonaro gestures during a motorcade with supporters in Goiania, Brazil, on September 27, 2026. (Sergio Lima / AFP via Getty Images)
A properly verified story should be published, no matter who it hurts. What I’m highlighting, however, is the asymmetry in how these two stories were treated. The story about Lula's son was widely reproduced in Brazil’s largest national media outlets. PlatôBR’s dense investigation into Flávio Bolsonaro, by contrast, only appeared in independent or regional media.
Folha de S. Paulo, which falsely presents itself as neutral, covered the story clumsily. Rather than report the grave revelations about Flávio, it framed the story as “Workers’ Party exploits report linking Flávio Bolsonaro to escorts and a Rolex as candidate avoids questions.”
That is a classic case of shifting the focus of a story instead of actually covering it.
Would the media be ignoring this story if the Rolex had gone to Lula’s son Fábio Luís or to an ally of Lula? I doubt it.
Under other circumstances, the sordid details PlatôBR reported would already have produced a formal criminal complaint from the public prosecutor’s office, and an investigation would already be open against Supreme Court Justice Kassio Nunes. The report shows that Flávio worked to connect lobbyists with the Supreme Court Justice, who was appointed by his father.
As a state deputy in Rio de Janeiro, Flávio got caught up in the rachadinha ghost payroll kickback scandal. His father’s political rise and his own election to the Senate in 2018, which gave him parliamentary immunity, enabled him to escape prosecution.
Once he reached the Senate, he indulged fully in the power that came with his new political and family standing. He started by buying a home worth more than $1.1 million, financed through a suspicious loan from Banco de Brasília, a public bank that was only authorized to finance low-income housing. At the time, we didn’t know that Banco de Brasília had already been put to political use by the group in power.
Starting in 2019, PlatôBR reports, Flávio and his business partner in a Rio de Janeiro chocolate shop, Alexandre Ferreira Dias Santini, gave themselves over to indulgence, passive corruption and influence peddling. The chocolate shop was allegedly used for money laundering. Santini organized group sex parties at luxury hotels in Brasília and Rio de Janeiro, with paid escorts. Money was never in short supply.
Everything went smoothly until the two had a falling out over the closing of the chocolate shop. Santini felt wronged and wanted more money, so he began threatening Flávio and sharing sensitive information with third parties.
At first, Flávio ignored his former business partner. As a senator, he had found new partners interested in his particular brand of influence. One was lawyer Willer Tomaz, at the time a business partner of Daniel Vorcaro and a passenger on the same plane Flávio and Supreme Court Justice Alexandre de Moraes had flown on together. Willer also kept a getaway house on the outskirts of Brasília for illicit gatherings. He’s a serious operator, and he is now under investigation for alleged money laundering through betting platforms. During a period of 18 months, he placed $1.28 billion in bets.
Lawyer Alan Belaciano also grew close to Flávio, bringing his own web of interests in the Bolsonaro government and the judiciary. According to Santini, Belaciano arranged parties, orgies and trips for the senator, and also paid for gym equipment, a 75-inch television for the newly purchased house, and the $59,200 Rolex, putting the receipts in his own name. Belaciano covered everything for Flávio, including repairs and renovations on the house, and took over from Santini as the senator’s financial handler and operator.
Santini shared all of this, including copies of messages and photos of receipts, with friends and acquaintances. During the dispute, he went so far as to say, “If I wanted to, I could put Flávio behind bars. With what I have, he would be arrested. I know everything about his life.”
In one message, he mentioned that Flávio had arranged a meeting between a client and Justice Kassio Nunes.
His boldest move was telling Fernanda, Flávio’s wife, about the orgies her husband took part in. That triggered a serious marital crisis that nearly ended in divorce. The couple reconciled, and Fernanda even tried to help broker a settlement between the two men.
The report doesn’t reveal, and appears not to have uncovered, what Flávio ultimately gave Santini to end the dispute. All Santini ever wanted was more money for his stake in the shop. Someone must have paid him off to keep quiet. The two men have since reconciled, and Santini now supports Flávio Bolsonaro's candidacy for the presidency.
Still, the dark stories he revealed have taken on a life of their own, despite the mainstream media’s lack of interest.
Tereza Cruvinel is a columnist and commentator for Brasil 247. She is the founder and former president of Brazil’s public television network, EBC/TV Brasil, and a former columnist for O Globo, Jornal do Brasil, Correio Braziliense, RedeTV and other outlets.
This article first appeared in Brasil 247, was translated by Panamerican Dispatch, and can be read in its original Portuguese here.
The views expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the position of Panamerican Dispatch.