The Babies Kept in a Mysterious Los Angeles Mansion

Guojun was also accused of explicitly aggressive behavior. In a lawsuit settled early last year, Alejandro Diaz, a former eviction manager at Yudao Management, alleged he was wrongfully fired after raising concerns about Guojun’s dealings with tenants. Over the course of one morning, Guojun attempted to break down the door of a rental building, intimidating residents and firing a Taser at a dog. After Diaz expressed his discomfort to Guojun, Guojun punched him in the arm, threw rocks at him and, later, pulled what appeared to be an assault rifle from the trunk of his car and looked at him “in a threatening manner,” according to the complaint. Liu, the lawyer, said any allegations that his client used threats or violence were based “on unverifiable hearsay,” including from disgruntled employees, and that when Guojun drinks Moutai it is “responsibly and casually.”

I soon had an even clearer idea of ​​where Guojun’s fearsome reputation – and perhaps his cash flow – came from. It turned out that Guojun was linked to an elusive criminal figure known as Haoren (Dragon) Ma. Last September, the city of El Monte filed a lawsuit against Guojun, Ma, their respective associates and holding companies linked to a large group of office buildings known, in part, as Pacific Place. Guojun owned some of the buildings; by the summer of 2022, perhaps to make room for his growing family, he had moved his surrogacy and real estate employees, including Powers, out of the mansion and into the office complex.

As it turns out, Pacific Place was also home to an illicit casino and a complex drug manufacturing enterprise, both allegedly run by Ma. During a series of raids at the larger complex, from 2019 to 2024, police seized plastic packets of methamphetamine, twenty thousand vape cartridges, and hundreds of pounds of psilocybin mushrooms, as well as a stolen Uzi-style pistol, boxes of ammunition, and cash counterfeit. Guojun was not charged with manufacturing drugs, but according to the complaint, he and his associates “formed and dissolved entities after each enforcement action to conceal ownership, thwart law enforcement, and continue Ma’s illegal gambling and narcotics operations.” (Mom could not be reached for comment.)

When I asked Liu about his client’s involvement in these schemes, he responded that Guojun had “never obstructed law enforcement” and that all financial transactions were “routine matters between landlord and tenant.” Others in Guojun’s orbit were more alarmed. A former associate told me she wanted to speak anonymously because she feared for her life – and she thought Silvia did too. “If she had had enough money,” the associate said, “she would have run away.”

Last fall, walking past the gate of Arcadia Manor, I saw Silvia and Guojun fighting in front of their front door. After I introduced myself, they continued to yell at each other in Mandarin, as if I wasn’t there. Guojun, who was dressed in crisp black pants and a salmon-colored button-down shirt, didn’t look at me as he got into a black Mercedes SUV. When I asked Silvia if it was true that they just wanted a big family, she sighed. She wore flared yoga pants, an oversized black T-shirt printed with cartoon kittens, and beige plastic slides. “My lawyer says I can’t say anything,” she repeated in response to my questions. “Thank you for your understanding.” Then she got into a white Tesla and sped away.

3. Children

On Wednesday, May 7, two weeks before a social worker told Kayla Elliott about an injured baby, police stopped at the Arcadia home. Earlier that day, they had received a call from Children’s Hospital Los Angeles, where the infant, a two-month-old named Walter, had been admitted with severe bleeding behind his eyes and inside his brain. Silvia had told doctors he had fallen out of bed, but his symptoms, which included vomiting and seizures, did not seem to fit her explanation.