The façade finally cracks under the weight of its own lies. New Ethics Commission filings confirm what insiders have known for years: Los Angeles County is not governed by its elected Supervisors. It is governed by an unelected legal syndicate operating from polished Century City conference rooms, attorneys who litigate the county’s scandals by day, launder political influence by night, and move millions in taxpayer dollars like their own personal bankroll. Their most valuable asset isn’t expertise. It’s impunity.
At the center of this orbit stands Louis “Skip” Miller, the Miller Barondess power broker whose firm has consumed tens of millions in taxpayer dollars since 2020. The latest filings don’t reveal clerical errors or sloppy disclosures. They potentially expose a fully engineered straw-donor pipeline, a corporate-shell conveyor belt meticulously fashioned to fortify the most compromised political actors in LA County and suffocate anyone who threatens the machine’s ability to self-preserve.
And sitting at the top of that enemies list is former Sheriff Alex Villanueva, the one official who refused to be managed, bought, or intimidated.
What these filings make crystal clear is that the real power in LA County has never lived under the dome of the Hall of Administration. It lives in the briefcases of the attorneys who quietly decide which scandals receive sunlight, which political careers receive oxygen, and which inconvenient watchdogs are crushed.
Miller Barondess perfected a model that merges public litigation with private political engineering. They defend the county’s elite from their own mismanagement, then pour disguised contributions into campaigns to ensure the same politicians keep signing their contracts. They represent feuding bureaucrats, shield the Board from internal accountability probes, and, when necessary, undermine law enforcement leaders who get too close to the truth. It is not governance. It is the county’s most lucrative protection racket.
The “Skip” donor universe, an explosion of seemingly phantom entities with identical addresses and suspiciously identical timing, is the clearest evidence of potential “political engineering” yet. What appears to be fabricated facades dumped more than $25,000 into the campaigns of Holly Mitchell, Lindsey Horvath, and Chris Holden. On the surface, none behave like real corporate PACs, or show transparent authorization. All trace back to Miller Barondess. What appears on paper to be simple “support”, with the “Skip” donor acting as an intermediary, could be a potential violation mill: undisclosed true-source money, conduit donations masked as corporate contributions, and potential felony laundering hidden behind corporate names that may never have approved a single check. If even one corporation disavows a contribution, the entire operation collapses into criminal impersonation and money laundering.
Nowhere is the scheme more brazen than in the finances surrounding Chris Holden. According to our sources in late 2023, Holden’s old Assembly committee quietly paid Miller Barondess for vague “consulting”, a payment that conveniently aligned with a sudden surge of “Skip” donations flowing straight into Holden’s Supervisor campaign. Money leaves Holden’s account through the side door, reappears moments later disguised as fresh support from corporate shells, and all of it circulates through the same law firm responsible for defending the county against scrutiny. This is not consulting. This is a round-trip wash designed to evade disclosure requirements, contribution limits, and surplus-fund restrictions. If the FPPC subpoenas the invoices, and that is now non-negotiable, the financial choreography becomes impossible to explain away.
But the most staggering element of this machine is not the money. It is the audacity.
While Miller Barondess was billing taxpayers to defend the Sheriff’s Department in the Vanessa Bryant wrongful-death case, a defense that ballooned into almost $50 million in settlements and fees, the firm was simultaneously bankrolling Sheriff Robert Luna’s campaign to unseat Alex Villanueva. Miller Barondess litigated on behalf of Villanueva’s department during business hours, then quietly funded his political removal after dark.
And while the “Skip” donor operation exposes the financial machinery propping up Los Angeles County’s political elite, Sheriff Luna’s own orbit reveals an equally troubling overlap. His daughter is employed by Miller Barondess, the very firm orchestrating legal and political cover for her father while simultaneously holding multimillion-dollar contracts with the County. That dual allegiance isn’t just uncomfortable optics; it’s a built-in conflict of interest that blurs the line between personal loyalty and public accountability.
The same pattern emerges in the Maya Lau lawsuit. Villanueva did not target a journalist for her reporting. He followed evidence that sensitive personnel files had been obtained through improper channels and referred the matter, appropriately, to the Attorney General. The AG declined prosecution. That should have been the end of it. But the syndicate saw an opportunity. Miller Barondess swooped in, not just to defend the county, but to wield the case as a political tool against the sheriff who dared investigate their donors and clients. This is textbook conflict of interest: a law firm that donates to the Supervisors who approve its contracts, defends the county against lawsuits involving its political allies, and undermines the law enforcement leader who threatens its revenue stream. The fox isn’t guarding the henhouse. The fox is billing the hens.
When Villanueva’s Public Corruption Unit began cracking open the Board’s ethical vulnerabilities, the retaliation was swift and carried out through checkbooks, not subpoenas. Sachi Hamai walked away with a $1.5 million golden parachute and lifetime security. Fesia Davenport exited with a $2 million “reputational harm” package. Both payouts engineered quietly. Both shepherded through the same political channels Miller’s influence protects. Both insulated from voter outrage by a Board that long ago learned there is no price too high for silence.
All of this, the phantom donors, the money laundering, the golden parachutes, the political sabotage funded by taxpayer defense contracts, leads back to one undeniable truth:Alex Villanueva wasn’t removed because he was corrupt. He was removed because he refused to be corruptible. He exposed the revolving-door ecosystem that keeps the same insiders paid, protected, and immune. The syndicate responded the only way it knows how, by buying an outcome, installing a compliant replacement, and burying the evidence under layers of legal invoices.
What happens next is not a matter of politics. It is a matter of forensic accounting and prosecutorial will. Every “Skip” donor must be audited. Every invoice between Holden and Miller Barondess must be subpoenaed. Every corporate PAC allegedly represented by these shells must be contacted. And every golden parachute must be re-examined for impropriety.
Villanueva followed the evidence. The Board buried it. Now the evidence is resurfacing on its own, and the machine can no longer control the narrative.
Follow Us