French woman swindled by AI-posed Brad Pitt details scam in new memoir

A French interior designer-turned-author says she handed over more than £700,000 to scammers who used AI to pose as Brad Pitt, a deception she says ultimately freed her from an unhappy marriage and led to her divorce. Anne Deneuchatel, 53, told Le Monde and other outlets that the experience left her penniless and battling severe depression before she found the courage to speak publicly and publish a memoir, Je ne serai plus une proie (I Will No Longer Be a Prey).

Her whirlwind affair began after a stranger contacted her on Instagram, claiming to be Brad Pitt’s mother. The conversation then moved to Telegram, where the actor’s persona continued to unfold. Over 14 months, from April 2023 to June 2024, Deneuchatel transferred nearly £700,000 to a man she believed to be Pitt. The money started with plausible excuses—customs charges on gifts—before escalating to hospital bills and requests for funds tied to a supposed kidney cancer diagnosis and a lifesaving transplant. The scammer sent AI-generated photos of Pitt in a hospital bed and used increasingly dramatic narratives to keep her engaged. At one point, the con artist claimed Pitt’s bank account was frozen amid divorce proceedings with his ex-wife, and that additional funds were needed to avoid delaying a blockbuster production.

As the romance intensified, the messages took on a tone of urgency and intimacy. The purported Pitt declared that she should be content to be a trophy and that she had become the center of his world, amplifying the sense that she had found someone who finally valued her. Deneuchatel says she detached from her usual personality to live in a total fantasy, describing an extended honeymoon phase that felt real and comforting after years of an unhappy marriage to a “selfish and manipulative” businessman.

The emotional weight of the ruse deepened as the scammer began describing mounting health crises and financial emergencies designed to test her loyalty and generosity. The allegations culminated in a request for £13,000 for a private-jet trip, a sum she eventually paid, exhausted and isolated from friends and family. It was only after that surge of pressure—and a looming sense that she could not keep up the pretense—that she reached out to the police.

Authorities later traced the operation to three men living in a villa in Nigeria, who allegedly conducted the scheme from abroad. The trio was identified as the people behind the impersonation, according to Deneuchatel’s public disclosures earlier this year and subsequent French media coverage. She has said the men used AI-generated imagery and messages to sustain the illusion, including a hospital-bed photo, which reinforced the impression that Pitt herself was in urgent need of help.

The affair left Deneuchatel spiritually and financially exhausted. She reported that she felt increasingly isolated, with her social circle shrinking as trolls and online scrutiny intensified after she revealed the extent of the generosity she had extended to the fake Pitt. The psychological toll was such that she admitted herself to a psychiatric hospital earlier this year, a step she has since described as a turning point rather than a setback. The money she had sent, she says, came at the cost of independence and long-standing happiness, but it also catalyzed a pivotal life change: she filed for divorce months after the relationship with the online illusion ended.

In interviews and in public remarks surrounding the release of her memoir, Deneuchatel has framed the experience as a harsh, though transformative, lesson on vulnerability and perception in the digital age. She told Le Monde that she had confided in the online figure about her husband’s alleged infidelity and alcohol issues, while the faux Pitt mirrored those vulnerabilities back to her, creating a feedback loop that reinforced the fantasy and delayed critical judgment. The narrative culminating in the final Telegram message allegedly issued by the scammer: "Love, my Telegram account has been hacked by imposters. I will now do everything in my power to ensure our safety. I am sincerely sorry if my lack of vigilance caused this situation." The line, as recounted by Deneuchatel, underscored the sophistication of the ruse and the emotional leverage the con artists wielded.

Deneuchatel’s tale has resonated in France, drawing attention to the growing use of artificial intelligence to impersonate celebrities in romance scams. The case also underscores a broader concern about online predation that can affect anyone, regardless of wealth or status. Her forthcoming memoir, Je ne serai plus une proie, seeks to warn others while offering a candid account of how deception can disrupt personal lives and lead to dramatic, lasting consequences.

Speaking publicly about her experience, Deneuchatel acknowledged that the scam did not merely drain her finances; it exposed a vulnerability that long existed in her marriage and personal life. She indicated that the process of divorcing, while painful, was a necessary step toward reclaiming her autonomy and rebuilding a sense of self that she felt had been eroded by years of emotional dependency and a perceived lack of support. In this way, she described the affair as a disorienting catalyst that forced her to confront a difficult truth: that the fantasy had eclipsed her real life for more than a year.

The broader reaction to the case has been mixed. Supporters say the memoir can help others recognize warning signs of online dating fraud and encourage victims to come forward. Critics, meanwhile, caution that sensational accounts can inadvertently glamorize scams or stigmatize victims. The Daily Mail and other outlets carrying the initial reporting emphasize the human impact of what is increasingly recognized as a digital-age scam, where AI-generated imagery and convincing narratives can blur the lines between fantasy and reality.

For now, Deneuchatel is promoting a message of resilience. She says the publication of her book is not about denying the heartbreak but about turning a personal catastrophe into a cautionary tale that can empower others to protect themselves online. Her experience, she notes, highlights how quickly a virtual romance can spiral into a financial and emotional crisis if boundaries are not maintained and critical scrutiny is not applied.

The case also marks a notable entry in the ongoing conversation about consent, privacy, and the responsibilities of social platforms in safeguarding users from sophisticated impersonation. As AI capabilities continue to improve, observers say more victims could face similar schemes, making educational resources and accessible support networks essential components of consumer protection in the digital era. Deneuchatel’s memoir seems positioned as both a personal ledger and a broader public service announcement—a narrative she hopes will prevent others from experiencing the same losses while offering a pathway to healing for those who have already fallen prey to online romance scams.