OTHER THAN WHAT WE HAD learned from the media, Reichart had provided the only information that we had about Jeffrey Epstein’s private island, Little Saint James, which Epstein referred to as Little Saint Jeff’s. While Reichart provided a full description of what he saw, he didn’t have access to the entire island during his stay, and he didn’t experience what we came to understand was going on behind the scenes.
Over the years, I interviewed at least half a dozen clients who were part of the fuller story of what happened on Little Saint Jeff’s. Some had been to the island only once and others had been many, many times. Each had her unique stories, but all of them had a common thread: sex.
Seloh was one of Epstein’s eighteen-year-old female invitees. She recounted her story to me, which encapsulated what I came to learn was a typical island “adventure” for a newcomer. She was an aspiring model in New York when she was recruited to meet Jeffrey Epstein, a wealthy financier with boundless connections who convinced her he was able to fulfill her most ambitious dreams and catapult her into the professional modeling life that she had always wanted.
After a few visits to his mansion in New York, and a few “massages,” she was invited to his island along with several other young women in 2007. She was flown from Teterboro Airport in New Jersey to Saint Thomas on Epstein’s private Boeing 727 jet. After landing in Saint Thomas, she was taken by Epstein’s private helicopter to Little Saint James. Once they arrived, Seloh and the three other similarly aged girls who had flown over with her stepped off of the helicopter into paradise while the island staff grabbed their bags. The girls walked barefoot toward the main house. Sculptures and statues lined the pathway up to an open structure. The girls were greeted by the regular crew—Ghislaine Maxwell, Jean-Luc Brunel, Nadia Marcinkova, Sarah Kellen, and, of course, Jeffrey Epstein.
Seloh was shown to her room: a beautiful, spacious cabana with one king-size bed. She walked out to the main outdoor area where everyone was gathered. “Go explore,” said Ghislaine in her British accent to Seloh and the others, whom she referred to as “my children.” Nadia led Seloh and her new friends down the steps and through an enclosed tunnel, where they encountered a small turtle that they took turns taking pictures with. This was a world that none of these girls had ever experienced.
“What do you want to do next?” asked Nadia.
One of the other girls responded, “Well, what are our options?”
To which Nadia replied, “Anything you can imagine,” as she ran back up the stairs and toward ATVs parked on the beach.
Almost as if the whole thing was staged, Epstein was sitting atop one of the ATVs at the front of the line. Each girl jumped on her own ATV. Epstein looked back at the line of girls and yelled, “Follow me!” as he tore off through the sand. Seloh and her new friends followed.
They drove along the purest, cleanest-looking water Seloh had ever seen to their left, and past the intricate architectural structures that filled the island to their right. Seloh had only ever dreamed of seeing a place this beautiful; it was like somewhere from a postcard or in a movie. The experience was exhilarating.
As they approached the main house on their way back, Jeffrey—who was still leading the caravan—slammed on his brakes while going full speed and turned sharply to the right, causing his ATV to spin in dramatic fashion. Each of the women behind him stopped to admire his expert handling of the machine. He stepped off the ATV and said to Nadia, “Take everyone to the kitchen. I’ll see you later.” He then walked away.
Everyone knew that Nadia Marcinkova held the role of Jeffrey Epstein’s girlfriend at the time. She was always around. You see, he had his favorite girls, but there was a difference between a “favorite girl” and his “girlfriend.” First, it was Eva Andersson, then it was Ghislaine Maxwell, and now it was Nadia Marcinkova. Anyone who reached girlfriend status had also proven a commitment to a lifetime of allegiance and unwavering friendship. He once famously said that when a relationship is over, the girlfriend “moves up, not down” to friendship status.
Nadia walked Seloh and the other girls to the main house, where dinner was prepared. Everyone on the island, except for Jeffrey, ate together. The girls sat at the table talking while Sarah sat distantly in the background, scanning the room as if to assess the liabilities and assets. Jean-Luc walked over to pet Maxwell’s Yorkie, Max, at the same time. Jean-Luc then tackled Ghislaine into the nearby chair before he engulfed her in one of his playful hugs. To Seloh, Jean-Luc and Ghislaine seemed thick as thieves.
Periodically throughout the day, each of the others had disappeared after Ghislaine or Nadia told them Jeffrey wanted to see them, but Seloh had yet to be summoned for private time with Jeffrey. After dinner, she retired to her room. As she grabbed her phone to check her text messages, there was a knock at the door. It was Ghislaine: “Jeffrey wants to see you now.” Seloh walked over to the grand master bedroom. As she approached the door, she was nervous, but she didn’t know enough to be too nervous. At most, she thought this would be a “regular” massage, which was sure to include having to pinch Jeffrey’s nipples while he masturbated, but by this point, she was accustomed to that.
She opened the door and saw Jeffrey standing sternly in his white bathrobe in front of her. He pointed to the other side of the room, where there was a bar, and instructed her to turn around, bend over, and hold it. Seloh walked slowly toward the bar. When she got there, she turned back to look for Jeffrey and saw one of Jeffrey’s other girls walk out from behind him. The girl was dressed in all leather with a leather whip in her hand. “Remove your clothes,” she said.
Seloh complied. Her thoughts spun. I have no way out. I have no choice. I’m on an island in the middle of the ocean. WTF. Before she could get very far: crack. She felt the straps of the leather whip smack against her bare bottom.
Jeffrey then instructed, “Put it on.” His girl attached a harness containing a plastic dildo across her waist. Seloh turned around to see what was going on. As she began to turn, Epstein sternly warned her, “Do not turn around. Keep your hands on the bar.” Reminding herself that she didn’t have any other option but to comply, Seloh did as instructed. The girl approached and within seconds, Seloh felt something thrusting inside of her.
While periodically being whipped, she thought, This hurts. What am I doing? How do I get out of here? She opened her eyes and peered to her left to see Jeffrey smiling wryly while masturbating. As he held himself, Jeffrey spoke only and directly to the other girl. “Do you love this? Is this turning you on?”
“Oh yeah,” she replied as she continued thrusting from behind Seloh.
“Seloh, grab your clothes. You can go,” Jeffrey said with glee. Looking back just before she left the door, Seloh saw Jeffrey and his other girl go at it in the middle of the room. She thought, What just happened? How does everyone around me think this is normal? Is this what I have to do to get where I need to go? Do I have any choice? Calming her nerves, she realized that, at the moment, there was no choice. If she ultimately resisted, her career and life could be ruined. She convinced herself that this was normal and to just be happy and thankful.
The next morning, she played volleyball on the beach with Jean-Luc. Ghislaine yelled for another girl who was on the island that day, Natalie, to follow her to Jeffrey. Seloh immediately had flashbacks to the night before, realizing in that moment that Ghislaine controlled the rotation of Jeffrey’s daily routine.
On the last night, Seloh was sleeping peacefully in her bed, not having seen Jeffrey for the entire day. She woke up to feel an erect penis inside of her from behind and Jeffrey’s left index finger over her lips as if instructing her to shhhh. “I don’t want to do this,” said Seloh.
“Yes, you do. It’s okay,” he said. “The only thing that I ask is that you don’t tell my girlfriend that I’m sleeping here.” While Nadia obviously knew Jeffrey was engaging in sex with every other female who was around, she had one rule, and that was that he did not sleep in the same bed as another woman. But that didn’t matter; once again, Seloh had no choice but to go along with it and ultimately to categorize it as her new normal.
The next morning, everyone met for breakfast. Seloh found her seat at the table. Without turning around, Nadia, hearing him approach, said, “Where did you sleep last night?”
Seloh, looking past her to Jeffrey, saw Jeffrey hold his index finger over his lips. He responded, “In the cabana—you were snoring.” Seloh immediately felt enormous guilt. But she knew what everyone else knew—Jeffrey was in control. The only way to survive was to live under Jeffrey’s rules, which were very clear.
Among them, say nothing.