Marco Tine, born in Venezuela and based in Miami Beach, is a Realtor associated with Coldwell Banker. He specializes in properties from Coral Gables to Brickell to South Beach, and recently joined forces with Alejandro Nietmetz, a Realtor with a deep background in luxury hospitality. Two of...

The lowdown: Though its effectiveness in the management of chronic pain (including migraine headaches) has added to its sales, botulinum toxin continues to see skyrocketing revenue, thanks in large part to the neurotoxin’s renown as a certain noninvasive cosmetic procedure. According to Fortune Business Insights,...

In God’s Ponzi, Gregory Portent needs $42 million by the end of the week to exact his revenge and prove, among other things, that “lawyers aren’t heroes.” The elaborate Ponzi scheme he’s running, a seemingly foolproof enterprise driven by artificial intelligence, has been blindsided by an unforeseen black swan event. “If I can’t fix this … bolt of lightning in the next few days,” Portent says, “I could end up dead—and I’ll be leaving behind the lives left in shambles of the people I care about.” Though Robert Buschel isn’t trying to rewrite a sordid slice of Broward County history with his latest novel, the fictional journey on which his main character embarks isn’t without its art-imitating-life vignettes. The renowned trial attorney, a partner at Fort Lauderdale-based Buschel & Gibbons for the past 12 years, was a lawyer at Rothstein Rosenfeldt Adler in late October 2009 when its managing shareholder and CEO Scott Rothstein fled to Morocco and sent his law partners a Saturday suicide text on Halloween. By that Monday, the reason why was all over the news. Rothstein, known for his extravagant lifestyle, had been running what was later determined to be a $1.4 billion Ponzi scheme (one of the largest in history) involving the sale of fraudulent settlement agreements. Rothstein ultimately returned to Fort Lauderdale and turned himself in on Dec. 1, 2009. He later pleaded guilty to orchestrating the scheme and a received a 50-year federal prison sentence. Nearly 30 other individuals caught in various tentacles of the law firm’s illegal dealings were arrested and/or convicted—including Rothstein’s wife at the time, Kim, who served 18 months in prison. Buschel, who was never accused of misconduct, recalls reaching out to his current partner, Eugene Gibbons, relatively new to RRA at the time, during the weekend that all hell broke loose. “Eugene was on a family trip in Tampa,” Buschel says. “He’d been at RRA less than a year. I said, ‘I hate to do this to you, but I’m going to throw a pretty fast pitch, and it’s going to seem like it’s going at your head. Scott Rothstein just took the law firm’s trust account and flew to Morocco. It’s over.’ “I told him that we should think about partnering up and moving forward,” he recalls. “I understood that a lot of people would mistakenly [assume] that everybody at the firm had to be in on it. Most of us, in fact, weren’t. But there was no time to wait around. I wanted to get out in front of it. So, Eugene and I took our shot and started a firm. It’s been a honeymoon ever since.” The same can’t be said for Rothstein, whose attempt at a sentence reduction in 2018 was shot down for violating the terms of his plea deal by lying to authorities and committing more crimes from behind bars. Buschel looks back at the Rothstein saga—and ties the past to both God’s Ponzi and the present—in this wide-ranging interview with SFBW.