When Ivan Montik took the stand in the Munich Wirecard trial, he likely intended to clarify his role. Instead, his testimony may have crystallized one of the most revealing structural insights into the iGaming payment economy in years.

The myth: SoftSwiss is merely a B2B software provider.
The courtroom reality: a centralized hub forwarding massive aggregated payment flows to offshore casino operators.

The distinction is not cosmetic. It is regulatory.

The Identity Trail: SoftSwiss → Direx → Dama

Under oath, Montik acknowledged that Direx N.V. — previously known as SoftSwiss N.V. — is now Dama N.V., all domiciled in Curaçao.

This evolution matters.

Corporate name changes are not unusual. But when entities involved in large-scale payment flows shift identity while maintaining operational continuity, scrutiny intensifies.

For years, investigators documented the structural overlap between these entities. Now the lineage has been confirmed in a criminal trial context.

The continuity undermines any suggestion that these were isolated or unrelated corporate actors.

They were successive iterations of the same operational nucleus.

Payment Intermediation in All But Name

Montik described Direx as receiving income via Wirecard and forwarding it to casino “clients.”

Let’s strip away the euphemism.

If player deposits are aggregated, processed via a regulated payment processor, received into a centralized account, and redistributed to third-party operators — that is payment intermediation.

It does not matter whether the company self-identifies as a PSP.

The presiding judge’s remark — that he knows what a PSP is — cut directly to this point. Courts examine function, not branding.

And the function described was unmistakable.

The €422 Million Flow: Governance Failure or Strategic Distance?

The €422 million payments list introduced by the defense was not a marginal detail. It was central.

That volume reflects systemic activity, not peripheral operations.

Montik’s claimed ignorance of the flows, combined with reference to a finance director, creates two uncomfortable possibilities:

1. A governance structure where nearly half a billion euros can transit affiliated accounts without executive awareness.

2. A strategic distancing under oath to reduce liability exposure.

Neither scenario reassures partners, regulators, or financial institutions.

Rounded, repeating outbound transfers further complicate the picture. Structured payment patterns of this kind often trigger anti-money laundering alerts.

If such patterns existed at scale, questions arise not only about the operator — but about the banks and processors that handled the flows.

The White-Label Model as Regulatory Armor

The “white label” casino model has long occupied a grey zone in European gambling law. Platform providers supply infrastructure, licensing umbrellas, and operational support while third-party brands market to players.

In theory, this is legal under regulated frameworks.

In practice, the Munich testimony suggests the model may have been expanded into a vertically integrated triad:

• Casino infrastructure

• Licensing shell

• Centralized payment routing

When those three layers converge under closely aligned entities, regulatory compartmentalization collapses.

The white-label model becomes not just a technical solution, but a regulatory shield.

The Crypto Pivot

The reported expansion of the ecosystem to include crypto payment processing through Dream Finance Group introduces a modern twist.

As traditional banking channels tightened after Wirecard’s collapse, crypto rails offer alternative liquidity pathways.

Recent temporary suspension of crypto-related services in Lithuania signals regulatory pressure is mounting.

The pattern is familiar in financial enforcement cycles: innovation first, scrutiny later.

The question is whether scrutiny will arrive fast enough.

The Regulatory Reckoning

The Malta Gaming Authority now faces unavoidable scrutiny.

If a licensed Maltese entity is operationally intertwined with Curaçao-based structures moving hundreds of millions in aggregated player funds, then the integrity of European gambling supervision is on the line.

Regulatory arbitrage — leveraging stricter jurisdictions for reputational cover while executing high-risk operations offshore — is not new.

But rarely is the architecture outlined so clearly in open court.

Final Assessment

Montik’s testimony may prove to be a turning point.

It transforms years of investigative mapping into sworn acknowledgment of structural continuity and financial function.

The SoftSwiss/Dama/Wirecard nexus now sits not in rumor, but in transcript.

The implications extend beyond one founder or one company. They cut into the architecture of cross-border fintech, gambling compliance, and regulatory oversight in Europe.

If authorities treat this as an isolated historical artifact of the Wirecard era, the system will replicate itself elsewhere.

If they treat it as a structural warning, reform may follow.

The difference will determine whether the next €422 million flows in silence — or under supervision.