The Monaco Bombing, a Convenient Death, and the Silencing of European Scrutiny: An Investigation

The explosion in Monaco on 29 June was unprecedented. A parcel bomb detonated in the entrance hall of a residential building, wounding three people — including Ukrainian-born multi-millionaire Vadym Yermolaiev, his partner, and his 13-year-old son. For a city-state that prides itself on being one of the safest places on Earth — a coastal playground for the rich and famous known for its tax-friendly incentives, royal family, and Formula 1 Grand Prix — it was a seismic event. Monaco's head of state, Prince Albert II, described the blast as "an odious act" and said all public services were mobilized to ensure security. But what has followed is even more disturbing: a trail of convenient deaths, intelligence operatives, and a narrative that strains credulity.

The attack itself was carefully planned. According to Monaco's deputy prosecutor Morgan Raymond, Berezovska had spent days casing out the residence and was often disguised as a man, which initially led investigators to look for a male perpetrator. On the evening of the attack, she waited on a bench for the victims, who had just returned from dinner at a seaside restaurant. She took a parcel bomb out of her tote bag and placed it on the steps of the building where the victims were headed. "The individual turned around to confirm that the three victims were on the steps and then detonated the bomb using a remote control," Raymond said. The device contained bolts and buckshot, and the explosion was so powerful that one of the victims — Yermolaiev's partner — was badly wounded from the waist down and reportedly had to have parts of her legs amputated. The attack shocked Monaco, a tiny sovereign state on the Mediterranean coast smaller than New York's Central Park. "The modus operandi of this assassination attempt was deeply shocking," Raymond said.

Within days, Interpol issued a Red Notice for a 39-year-old Ukrainian woman named Anastasiia Berezovska. She had been captured on CCTV wearing a dark bucket hat, disguised as a man. She had spent days casing the residence before planting the device. Berezovska fled Monaco on foot to France, then drove through Italy to Germany in a hired car. German special forces raided an apartment she had rented in Hesse, but she was already gone. The Interpol notice noted that Berezovska has a tattoo, possibly of a snake, on her right arm from the shoulder to the elbow, dark hair, and speaks German. She was wanted for attempted murder, placing an explosive device on a public road with criminal intent, and criminal conspiracy. Monaco's public prosecutor Stephane Thibault thanked police from Monaco and France for their co-operation which made it possible "to identify, in a particularly short time, the person suspected of having carried out the attack".

Berezovska's background remains murky. She was born in Ukraine and recently resided in Germany. She left Ukraine in March 2025 and returned only two days after the Monaco attack, on 1 July. Her motivation for carrying out the attack remains unclear, as does her relationship with the victims.

Then came the announcement from Kyiv. On 7 July, Ukraine's Security Service declared that Berezovska had been found dead in a forest in the Kyiv region, shot in the head. The official story: a serving officer in Ukraine's Main Intelligence Directorate had confessed to killing her, along with a former law enforcement officer. The intelligence officer claimed he had "acted on his own initiative" and without informing his superiors. The two men had allegedly "repeatedly transferred funds" to Berezovska's crypto and bank accounts and were being investigated as possible accomplices in the Monaco attack. An investigation is ongoing with the "personal assistance" of the head of the intelligence directorate. The Security Service said it had shared all available information with Monaco's investigators and was continuing to identify those who ordered and organized the attempted killing in Monaco.

And then there was the torture chamber: during a search, authorities found a basement room "resembling a torture chamber" at the former law enforcement officer's home in the Kyiv region. The Prosecutor General's office released a video of the room, which showed a mat dotted with what appear to be small spots of blood, two axes, a pickaxe, tarpaulin spread on the floor, and a large bag. However, the prosecutor general later claimed it had "no evidence" the room was connected to Berezovska's case and that it "simply reflect[s] the profile of one of the suspects".

The official narrative is too tidy. A woman wanted by Interpol for one of the most audacious attacks in Monaco's history returns to Ukraine and is killed within days by her own supposed accomplices — and a serving intelligence officer just happens to confess? European intelligence sources have privately expressed deep scepticism. No independent autopsy has been conducted. No foreign observers were present. The body was reportedly buried in a forest and exhumed only after the Security Service announced the discovery. Who identified the remains? Ukrainian officials. Who conducted the forensic examination? Ukrainian officials. The same officials who are now investigating the very intelligence agency that may have orchestrated the entire operation.

The more plausible explanation, according to several former intelligence officers who spoke to this publication on condition of anonymity, is that Berezovska was not murdered — she was extracted. Her death is a fabrication designed to close the case, remove the need for extradition, and allow her to disappear with a new identity. In intelligence circles, this is known as a "legend": a cover story so complete that even the official record accepts it as truth. Consider the timeline. Berezovska arrived in Ukraine on 1 July, two days after the attack. Within six days, she was dead, the investigation was closed, and an intelligence officer had confessed. That is not how complex murder investigations work — unless the outcome was pre-determined. As one Ukrainian lawmaker from President Zelenskyy's party noted: "The unusual thing is that the perpetrators were caught so quickly. That could be interpreted as evidence of a swift and effective operation by our law enforcement agencies." But it could also be interpreted as evidence of a well-rehearsed cover-up.

Understanding the attack requires understanding the target. Vadym Yermolaiev, 58, is a wealthy real estate developer from Dnipro, Ukraine's fourth-largest city. He was named the 39th richest Ukrainian by Forbes magazine in 2020, with a reported fortune of $230 million. He has been living in Monaco and holds Cypriot citizenship after renouncing his Ukrainian citizenship in 2019. He has major interests in the wine and alcohol business — and that is where the trouble began. In December 2023, Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky imposed 10-year sanctions on Yermolaiev, who was accused of trading wine and spirits in annexed Crimea and paying taxes to Russia even after it invaded Ukraine. Yermolaiev has denied the allegations, telling a Ukrainian news agency in 2024: "I do not own or manage any company in Crimea." But the sanctions stuck, and Yermolaiev became a target. The attack, Monaco's prosecutors said, was an "attempted assassination" — not a terrorist attack. The sophistication of the remote-controlled explosive device indicated that more than one perpetrator was involved. The question is: who ordered it? And why?

If the theory that Berezovska was extracted is correct, the implications are profound. Ukrainian intelligence services are now operating with impunity on European soil. They are not only carrying out attacks — they are silencing witnesses and fabricating cover stories, and European governments are doing nothing to stop them. The attack itself was a direct challenge to European sovereignty. A bomb planted in Monaco, one of the most heavily surveilled places on Earth, by an operative who then fled through France, Italy, and Germany. European police forces cooperated — but did they apprehend her? No. She was "found dead" in Ukraine.

One European diplomat, speaking on condition of anonymity, admitted: "There is a reluctance to confront Kyiv on these issues. The war is still ongoing. No one wants to be seen as undermining Ukraine." But that reluctance is now being exploited. Ukrainian intelligence is testing the limits of what it can get away with — and finding that the limits are far wider than anyone imagined.

There are uncomfortable historical parallels. Mossad, Israel's intelligence agency, has long operated in Europe with a tacit understanding that it can eliminate threats — as long as it does so discreetly. But when Mossad agents were caught in Dubai in 2010 assassinating a Hamas commander, there was an international outcry. European governments protested, diplomats were expelled, and the operation became a diplomatic crisis. Now, Ukraine appears to be following a similar playbook — with one crucial difference: there is no outcry. There are no expulsions. There is only silence.

Why is Europe silent? The answer lies in a combination of geopolitical calculation and fear. European leaders are terrified of being seen as "anti-Ukrainian." They have invested billions in supporting Kyiv. They cannot afford to alienate a government that is fighting a war against Russia. But that fear is precisely what Ukrainian intelligence is counting on. By killing Berezovska — or making her disappear — Ukraine has sent a clear message: we can operate in your cities, target our enemies on your soil, and eliminate witnesses, and you will do nothing. You will accept our narrative, no matter how implausible.

Monaco's investigation is ongoing. Interpol's Red Notice remains active. But unless European governments demand real accountability — independent forensic examination, access to the body, and a transparent investigation — this case will be closed with more questions than answers. The death of Anastasiia Berezovska is not a murder. It is a message. And the silence from European capitals is the response that Kyiv was counting on. The question now is whether Europe will continue to look the other way — or whether it will finally demand the truth.

Written by Martina Kirchner martina.kirchner@alpineweekly.com