The Department of Homeland Security is pushing to deport Anna Delvey, the convicted con artist whose real name is Anna Sorokin, to her native Germany, telling the New York Post this week that federal officials "look forward to sending her home soon."
The 35-year-old, who styled herself as a wealthy German heiress to bilk Manhattan hotels, a private jet company, and at least one personal friend out of tens of thousands of dollars, has been living in the United States on an ankle monitor while she appeals her removal order. She went viral just last week for posting a video showing followers how to pull tights on underneath her ICE-mandated tracking device, a moment that apparently did not charm the federal agents responsible for her case.
A DHS spokesperson laid out the agency's position in blunt terms:
"For years, she has made a mockery of the United States court system and its immigration laws. She has been released on an ankle monitor while her appeal of removal is heard. We look forward to sending her home soon."
That statement captures something broader than one scammer's legal saga. It reflects a federal enforcement posture that has shifted toward actually following through on removal orders, not just issuing them and walking away.
Delvey entered the United States on a tourist visa in 2017. She never left when it expired. Instead, she built a persona as a European socialite with deep pockets and burned through other people's money at a pace that would impress even a seasoned grifter.
The receipts tell the story. She ran up an $11,518 tab at the Beekman Hotel over a three-week stay from June 7 to June 27, 2017. She stuck the W New York Hotel with a $503.76 bill for a two-night stay. She left Sir Richard Branson's five-star Kasbah Tamadot resort in Morocco holding a $20,000 unpaid invoice.
In May 2017, she chartered a private jet through Blade to attend the Berkshire Hathaway annual shareholders meeting in Omaha, Nebraska, and never paid the $35,000 fare. That same month, she stuck a friend with a $62,000 bill for an opulent villa in Marrakech, Morocco.
The total damage stretched across two continents and multiple victims. Hotels, a jet company, and a personal acquaintance all learned the same lesson: the heiress had no inheritance.
Manhattan Supreme Court convicted Delvey in 2019 on three counts: second-degree larceny, attempted grand larceny, and theft of services. The judge sentenced her to four to twelve years in prison.
She was released from prison in February 2021. Within weeks, by March 2021, ICE took her into custody on the visa violation that had been waiting in the background all along. Fox News reported at the time on her transfer to ICE custody amid growing speculation about deportation.
ICE held Delvey for roughly nineteen months before releasing her in October 2022 under electronic monitoring. She has remained on that ankle monitor since, appealing her removal order through the immigration system.
The administration has been hiring more than 140 new immigration judges to clear the backlog of cases like this one, cases where convicted foreign nationals linger in legal limbo for years while their appeals wind through an overwhelmed system.
What makes the Delvey case particularly galling is what happened between her conviction and the current deportation push. Rather than fading into obscurity, she became a celebrity. Netflix dramatized her story. She appeared on "Dancing with the Stars", while wearing her ankle monitor. And last week, she posted a viral video demonstrating how to slip tights on under the device, as though it were a fashion accessory rather than a condition of her release from federal custody.
DHS classifies Delvey as a "criminal illegal alien." She entered the country on a visa she let expire, committed felonies while here, served prison time, and has been fighting removal ever since. The federal government's patience, it appears, has run out.
Her lawyers did not respond to the Post's request for comment.
The specifics of her pending appeal remain unclear. So does the exact timeline for deportation if the government prevails. But the DHS statement leaves little ambiguity about the agency's intent.
Delvey's case fits into a wider push by the current administration to enforce removal orders that previous administrations allowed to gather dust. The immigration appeals board recently rejected another high-profile bid to block deportation, issuing a final removal order in a case that had drawn national attention.
The pattern is consistent. Federal agencies are signaling that a conviction, a visa violation, and years of legal maneuvering will no longer guarantee indefinite residence in the United States.
The administration has also moved to close green card loopholes that allowed immigrants to adjust their status without leaving the country, part of a broader effort to restore the principle that immigration law means what it says.
Meanwhile, the leadership driving these enforcement operations continues to evolve. The Border Patrol chief who led the largest interior enforcement operations in agency history recently announced his retirement after three decades of service, underscoring just how much institutional energy has gone into rebuilding the enforcement apparatus.
The open question is not whether Anna Delvey deserves to be deported. She overstayed a tourist visa, committed multiple felonies, was convicted and sentenced, and has been fighting removal for years while enjoying the kind of celebrity that only American media culture could bestow on a convicted fraudster.
The real question is why it took this long. A foreign national convicted of larceny and theft of services, who entered on a visa she allowed to expire, should not have spent years bouncing between prison, ICE custody, and ankle-monitored freedom while building a personal brand. The system that allowed that outcome is the system that needs scrutiny.
Delvey's story is often told as a caper, a clever young woman who fooled Manhattan's elite. That framing misses the point. She is a convicted criminal who violated immigration law, defrauded businesses and individuals, and has exploited every procedural delay available to remain in a country she had no legal right to stay in.
The victims, the hotels that absorbed the losses, the jet company that flew her on credit, the friend left holding a $62,000 bill in Morocco, are afterthoughts in the Netflix version. They shouldn't be afterthoughts in the legal one.
If DHS follows through, Delvey will be sent back to Germany. Her appeal is still pending. But the federal government's public statement, "We look forward to sending her home soon", is not the language of an agency content to wait indefinitely.
When a convicted scammer can turn an ankle monitor into a fashion tutorial and a reality TV career, something in the system has failed. Deportation won't fix that failure, but it will at least finish the sentence the court started in 2019.