Her actual income depended on keeping the boss happy
No labirinto financeiro do Congresso brasileiro, emerge mais um padrão que a política nacional já conhece bem: o da 'rachadinha', em que servidores repassam parcelas de seus salários públicos a superiores. Desta vez, os registros bancários apontam para o gabinete do deputado Mário Frias, parlamentar paulista e produtor cinematográfico ligado ao bolsonarismo, sugerindo que uma ex-funcionária transferiu dezenas de milhares de reais a seu chefe de gabinete e a familiares do deputado. O caso, ainda sem resposta do acusado, ecoa uma tradição de desvio que corrói a confiança nas instituições representativas e lembra ao país que o dinheiro público, quando tratado como recurso privado, deixa rastros.
- Registros de Pix e extratos bancários obtidos pelo G1 revelam uma sequência de transferências que, somadas, formam o retrato clássico de um esquema de rachadinha no gabinete de Frias.
- A ex-servidora Gardênia não apenas repassou cerca de R$35 mil ao chefe de gabinete Raphael Azevedo, como pagou a fatura do cartão de crédito da esposa do deputado e transferiu valores à sua mãe, ampliando o alcance familiar do suposto esquema.
- Cinco empréstimos consignados totalizando R$174 mil foram contraídos por Gardênia, com repasses ao chefe de gabinete concentrados nos dias seguintes aos desembolsos — uma cronologia que aprofunda as suspeitas sobre a destinação real dos recursos.
- Uma movimentação de R$50 mil sacados em espécie no dia seguinte à transferência entre contas permanece sem explicação, lançando sombra sobre o destino final de parte dos valores.
- Frias, que produziu o filme biográfico de Bolsonaro e mantém laços com figuras investigadas em outros escândalos, ainda não se pronunciou, deixando os documentos financeiros como única voz pública do caso.
Nos corredores da Câmara dos Deputados, um conjunto de transferências bancárias veio à tona com as marcas de um esquema já familiar à política brasileira: a rachadinha, prática em que servidores devolvem parte de seus salários a superiores. O alvo desta vez é o deputado Mário Frias, parlamentar paulista e produtor de cinema, com base em registros obtidos pelo G1.
A ex-funcionária identificada como Gardênia enviou aproximadamente R$35 mil via Pix a Raphael Azevedo, chefe de gabinete de Frias entre 2023 e 2024. As transferências ultrapassaram a hierarquia imediata: em janeiro de 2024, Gardênia enviou R$1 mil à mãe do deputado; em dezembro de 2023, quitou uma fatura de R$4.832,32 do cartão de crédito de Juliana Frias, esposa do parlamentar.
O quadro se complica ao examinar os empréstimos consignados de Gardênia — cinco operações que somaram R$174.886. Segundo os documentos, parcelas desses valores foram transferidas a Azevedo nos dias seguintes a cada desembolso. Questionada, Gardênia admitiu que apenas um empréstimo de R$35 mil foi para uso pessoal; o restante, disse ela, destinava-se a despesas de campanha que, no fim, nunca foram pagas. Ela também revelou que outros servidores do gabinete eram igualmente obrigados a devolver partes de seus salários.
Uma transação permanece especialmente obscura: Gardênia recebeu R$50 mil de uma conta-salário no Banco do Brasil, transferiu o valor no mesmo dia para o Itaú e sacou R$49.999 em espécie no dia seguinte. Para onde foi o dinheiro, ela não explicou.
O caso ganha peso adicional pelo perfil de Frias: produtor executivo do filme biográfico sobre Jair Bolsonaro e figura com conexões investigadas em outros contextos. O padrão remete ao escândalo de rachadinha que envolveu o gabinete de Flávio Bolsonaro. Até o momento, Frias não respondeu às alegações, deixando os registros financeiros como único testemunho público de um esquema que, se confirmado, representaria desvio de recursos públicos e abuso de confiança institucional.
In the corridors of Brazil's Chamber of Deputies, a pattern of financial transfers has surfaced that bears the hallmarks of a scheme long familiar to Brazilian politics: the "rachadinha," a kickback arrangement in which staffers return portions of their salaries to their employers. This time, the focus is on Deputy Mário Frias, a São Paulo lawmaker and film producer, and the evidence comes in the form of bank records and digital payment receipts obtained by the news site G1.
The transfers tell a story written in Pix notifications and credit card statements. A former employee in Frias's office, identified as Gardênia, moved money through the banking system in ways that suggest a coordinated flow of funds upward through the office hierarchy. Between 2023 and 2024, she sent approximately 35,000 reais through digital transfers to Raphael Azevedo, who served as Frias's chief of staff during that period. But the transfers did not stop there. In January 2024, Gardênia moved 1,000 reais to Maria Lucia Frias, the deputy's mother. In December 2023, she paid off a credit card bill belonging to Juliana Frias, the deputy's wife, settling a charge of 4,832.32 reais.
The financial picture grows more complex when examined through the lens of Gardênia's borrowing. She took out five separate loans against her salary, collectively totaling 174,886 reais. According to documents reviewed by G1, portions of these borrowed funds were transferred to Azevedo in the days and weeks surrounding the loan disbursements. When questioned about the arrangement, Gardênia acknowledged that only one loan, worth 35,000 reais, was for her personal use. The remainder, she claimed, was intended to cover campaign expenses—expenses that, she noted, were never actually paid.
One transaction stands out for its opacity. Gardênia received 50,000 reais from a salary account at Banco do Brasil, moved it the same day to a personal account at Itaú, and withdrew 49,999 reais in cash the following day. She has not disclosed who received the cash or what it was used for. When speaking with G1, Gardênia also revealed that she was not alone in this arrangement; other staffers in the office, she said, were similarly required to return portions of their salaries.
The allegations carry particular weight given Frias's profile and connections. He is a film producer who served as executive producer on "Dark Horse," a biographical film about former president Jair Bolsonaro. Reporting by the Intercept Brasil has shown that Frias exchanged messages with Daniel Vorcaro, owner of Banco Master, using the kind of familiar language—"irmão," "brother"—that has appeared in other investigations of Bolsonaro allies. The pattern echoes previous cases, most notably that of Flávio Bolsonaro, the former senator and current presidential aspirant, whose office was investigated for similar kickback schemes.
When approached for comment, Frias has not yet responded to the allegations. His silence leaves the financial record to speak for itself: a series of transfers that, taken together, suggest a systematic arrangement in which a subordinate's salary was treated as a partial resource for the deputy's household and political operations. The scheme, if confirmed, would represent a breach of public trust and a misuse of the public funds that flow into parliamentary offices. The case now awaits Frias's response and, potentially, further investigation.
Notable Quotes
Other staffers in the office were similarly required to return portions of their salaries— Gardênia, former employee
Only one loan, worth 35,000 reais, was for her personal use; the remainder was intended to cover campaign expenses that were never actually paid— Gardênia, in response to G1 inquiry
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
Why does this pattern matter so much in Brazilian politics? It seems like a relatively small amount of money.
It's not really about the size. It's about what it reveals about how power works inside these offices. When a staffer has to return part of her salary to her boss, she's not an employee anymore—she's trapped. She can't speak up, can't complain, because her actual income depends on keeping the boss happy.
But Gardênia spoke to G1. She revealed the whole thing. So the trap didn't hold?
No, and that's interesting. She may have felt safer talking once the investigation was already underway, or she may have decided the risk of staying silent was worse. But notice what she said: other staffers had to do it too. That suggests this wasn't a one-off arrangement—it was the office culture.
The loans are the strangest part to me. Why would she take out loans if the money was just going to campaign expenses that never got paid?
That's the mechanism. You take a loan in your name, against your salary. The money comes in, you pass most of it up the chain. The debt stays with you. If something goes wrong, your name is on the paperwork, not the deputy's.
So she's absorbing the legal risk.
Exactly. And the campaign expenses that never materialized—that's either a cover story or it reveals that the money was being used for something else entirely. Either way, it's not legitimate.
What happens now that Frias hasn't responded?
His silence is its own kind of answer. The documents are public. The transfers are documented. He can deny it, he can claim he didn't know, but the financial trail exists. The question now is whether anyone with the power to investigate will actually do so.