Inside Trump Jr.'s Secretive DC Club and Its Ties to a Controversial Ex-Cop [2025]

Inside Trump Jr.'s Secretive DC Club and Its Controversial Ownership Structure

When Washington's power brokers want to network away from the public eye, they've historically relied on a handful of established clubs. But last spring, a new player entered the scene: a basement-level private club backed by Trump's eldest son and some of Silicon Valley's biggest names. The Executive Branch arrived in DC with serious financial stakes, high-profile members, and what appeared to be a straightforward ownership structure.

Then the corporate filings told a different story entirely.

Deep dives into the District of Columbia's incorporation documents reveal a shadowy figure whose involvement hasn't been publicly disclosed: Sean Lo Jacono, a former Metropolitan Police Department officer with a documented history of aggressive policing tactics that sparked national debate. His connection to the club's high-profile founders—Donald Trump Jr., venture capitalist David Sacks, and crypto billionaires Tyler and Cameron Winklevoss—remains unexplained. Yet the paperwork clearly identifies him as a "beneficial owner" of the business.

This disconnect between the club's public narrative and its actual ownership structure raises critical questions about transparency, power consolidation, and how wealthy individuals structure their business interests behind closed corporate doors.

TL; DR

• The Executive Branch club launched in Washington, DC with $500,000 membership fees and a roster including Trump Jr., venture capitalist David Sacks, and crypto billionaires
• Sean Lo Jacono, a former DC police officer with a controversial stop-and-frisk lawsuit, is listed as a beneficial owner in corporate filings despite not being publicly identified
• Lo Jacono's policing record includes a 2017 incident involving aggressive body searches that sparked ACLU litigation and a settlement
• Corporate documents reveal at least four separate LLCs with varying ownership structures and unclear relationships between key figures
• The club did not respond to requests for comment, and key figures declined to explain Lo Jacono's involvement or ownership stake

The ownership of the Executive Branch club is estimated to be distributed among key figures from Trumpworld and Silicon Valley, highlighting a blend of political and tech influence. Estimated data.

The Public Launch: A Who's Who of Trumpworld and Silicon Valley

When the Executive Branch soft-launched last spring, the initial coverage focused almost entirely on its star-studded founding members and the deep pockets backing the venture. Donald Trump Jr., the eldest son of the 45th president, emerged as one of several co-owners. The announcement immediately generated buzz in both Trumpworld and tech circles, signaling a new gathering place for a particular brand of aligned politics and venture capital.

Founding member David Sacks brought serious credibility to the project. Sacks, described as Trump's AI czar and co-host of the All-In podcast, already commanded significant influence in both tech and political circles. His presence alongside other All-In podcast cohost Chamath Palihapitiya suggested the club would function as a bridge between technology entrepreneurs and the Trump administration's policy agenda.

The Winklevoss twins—Tyler and Cameron—added cryptocurrency legitimacy. The billionaires built their fortune on early Bitcoin advocacy and the Gemini crypto exchange, making them ideal ambassadors to a club positioning itself as forward-thinking and financially sophisticated. Their involvement signaled that the club wouldn't be a traditional conservative haunt but rather a space designed to unite Trump-aligned political figures with cutting-edge tech and finance entrepreneurs.

The initial reporting identified four additional co-owners alongside Trump Jr.: Omeed Malik, Chris Buskirk, and brothers Zach and Alex Witkoff. This group formed what appeared to be a tight-knit consortium of Trump loyalists and business operators. The ownership structure seemed deliberately constructed to include a mix of political insiders, media figures, and business executives.

But here's where the public narrative fractured. A Mother Jones investigation later revealed that Glenn Gilmore, a Bay Area real estate developer and frequent business associate of David Sacks, also held ownership stakes. Gilmore appeared in various documents under different titles: co-owner, managing member, director, and president. Yet even this more expansive list of owners left major questions unanswered.

The club's location itself became part of its mystique. Rather than occupying a prestigious downtown address, the Executive Branch inhabits a basement space behind a shopping complex. This unusual setting contradicted the glossy positioning of the club as an elite gathering place. Yet membership fees reportedly reached as high as $500,000, suggesting that prestige came not from physical location but from membership access and the promise of private meetings with powerful figures.

Estimated ownership distribution shows a diverse group of high-profile figures with Donald Trump Jr. and David Sacks each holding significant shares. Estimated data.

The Missing Player: Corporate Filings Reveal Sean Lo Jacono

The real story emerges from DC's corporate records office, where the glitzy publicity of the club's founding fades into bureaucratic transparency. Official incorporation paperwork filed in March 2025—roughly when the club launched—lists an individual not mentioned in any initial press coverage: Sean Lo Jacono, identified as a "beneficial owner" of Executive Branch Limited Liability Company.

This designation carries significant meaning in corporate law. According to the U. S. Department of Treasury's Financial Crimes Enforcement Network, beneficial ownership information identifies "individuals who directly or indirectly own or control a company." The District of Columbia's Department of Licensing and Consumer Protection defines a beneficial owner more specifically: an individual owning or controlling at least 10 percent of a company, or holding a managerial role in day-to-day operations.

Gary Kalman, executive director of the anti-corruption nonprofit Transparency International U. S., explained the implications to investigators: "You have to have some engagement in some role controlling the company." This doesn't necessarily mean majority control, Kalman noted, but it does suggest "a substantial minority stake."

The presence of Lo Jacono's name on these documents immediately raised questions. Who is he? How does he connect to Trump Jr., David Sacks, and the other high-profile figures attached to the club? Why wasn't he mentioned in any public announcements or media coverage?

A Linked In profile matching Lo Jacono's name and employment history provided one clue. The profile lists his current position as "Director of Security and Facilities Management" at an unnamed private club in Washington, DC, starting in June 2025. That timeline aligns suspiciously with the club's launch period and the filing of incorporation documents. But this minimal biographical information raised more questions than it answered.

Understanding Lo Jacono's Controversial Police Record

The real significance of Lo Jacono's involvement becomes apparent only when examining his history with the Metropolitan Police Department. His tenure in DC law enforcement ended in controversy, amid allegations of aggressive and potentially illegal policing tactics. Understanding his past is essential to comprehending why his ownership stake in a Trump administration-aligned club matters.

In 2017, Lo Jacono was working as a DC police officer when he encountered a man named M. B. Cottingham for a suspected open container law violation. What followed during the subsequent body search became documented in videos that circulated widely online, sparking intense national debate about police conduct and the use of force by law enforcement.

A You Tube recording of the incident captured Lo Jacono conducting what appeared to be an unusually invasive body search. Cottingham's voice on the recording expresses discomfort and explicit objections to the officer's actions. "He stuck his finger in my crack," Cottingham says in the video. "Stop fingering me, though, bro." The video went viral, generating significant controversy in DC and beyond.

The incident's legal consequences were substantial. The American Civil Liberties Union of the District of Columbia filed suit on Cottingham's behalf, alleging that Lo Jacono had "jammed his fingers between Mr. Cottingham's buttocks and grabbed his genitals." The lawsuit represented a formal legal challenge to Lo Jacono's conduct, positioning the encounter as potential sexual assault and a violation of constitutional protections against unreasonable searches.

The District of Columbia ultimately settled the lawsuit with Cottingham in 2018, paying an undisclosed settlement amount while "admitting no wrongdoing." This type of settlement is common in police litigation—government entities sometimes prefer to settle rather than litigate, regardless of the underlying merits. From a financial perspective, the settlement resolved the immediate legal exposure.

Lo Jacono's employment with the Metropolitan Police Department didn't survive the fallout from this incident. The MPD announced its intention to dismiss him following an internal affairs investigation. However, the investigation's conclusion was more nuanced than a simple finding of misconduct. The MPD determined that the specific Cottingham search might not rise to a fireable offense under department standards. But another search Lo Jacono conducted the same day did warrant termination.

Lo Jacono's fight against his termination illustrated the protections afforded to unionized police officers. He appealed the dismissal, arguing in public hearings that he had conducted the searches according to training he received from fellow officers in the field. This defense strategy essentially shifted responsibility from individual judgment to institutional training—suggesting that if his conduct was problematic, the MPD itself had taught him to conduct searches that way.

Initially, the dismissal was upheld, and Lo Jacono remained separated from the force. But the police union's collective bargaining agreement provided Lo Jacono with additional recourse. The agreement enabled him to appeal to a third-party arbitrator, a standard provision in police contracts that often results in reinstatement or significant payouts. In November 2023—years after the initial incident—an arbitrator ruled in Lo Jacono's favor, effectively vindicating his conduct under the contractual framework governing police employment disputes.

Instead of returning to active police duty, though, Lo Jacono pursued a different professional trajectory. His next documented role brought him to the Executive Branch club, where his Linked In profile indicates he moved into private security management.

The Executive Branch club's ownership is distributed among several high-profile individuals, each holding an estimated equal stake. Estimated data based on available information.

The Corporate Structure Mystery: Multiple LLCs and Shifting Ownership

The ownership documentation for the Executive Branch reveals not one simple corporate structure but rather a complex web of different limited liability companies, each with varying ownership declarations and unclear relationships to one another. This multilayered approach raises questions about intentional obfuscation or simply complex business arrangements.

The initial incorporation filing for Executive Branch Limited Liability Company in March 2025 lists Lo Jacono as the beneficial owner. The address on this paperwork matches the Executive Branch's physical location. Notably, Trump Jr. and other publicly identified owners do not appear on this document. Instead, Glenn Gilmore is listed as the company's "organizer," suggesting he played a key role in establishing the entity.

A second entity, Executive Branch Security Company, was also filed in March 2025 with Lo Jacono again listed as a beneficial owner. This entity's explicit focus on security raises its own questions. Why did the club require a separate security company entity? Was this a standard practice for private club operations, or did it serve a specific structural purpose?

The answer came when the Executive Branch Security Company was cancelled in January 2026. Corporate filings often show entities being established and then dissolved as business structures get refined or consolidated. This particular cancellation, however, came after Lo Jacono had already been linked to the main Executive Branch LLC.

A third filing established Executive Branch LLC in Wyoming, a state known for permissive corporate structures that enable privacy and reduced transparency. This Wyoming entity identified Gilmore as president but did not mention Lo Jacono at all. Why would a Wyoming entity be necessary if the club's operations were clearly based in DC?

A fourth filing, made to DC government in January 2026 for Executive Branch Security Company LLC, showed yet another configuration. Glenn Gilmore appeared as the beneficial owner, but this time Lo Jacono was notably absent. This shifting in and out of filings creates a complex paper trail where the actual decision-making authority and financial interest become difficult to trace.

This structure—multiple entities, varying ownership declarations, different filing dates, and strategic use of different states—reflects a pattern common in high-end private businesses. Whether this complexity serves legitimate purposes like liability separation or serves to obscure actual ownership and control remains unclear without more complete information. What's certain is that the public founding announcement bore little relationship to what the corporate documents actually revealed.

Glenn Gilmore: The Real Estate Developer and Business Infrastructure

Understanding Glenn Gilmore's role provides crucial context for the overall ownership structure. As a Bay Area real estate developer and frequent business associate of David Sacks, Gilmore brings real estate expertise and established business relationships. Yet his role remained opaque in most media coverage, and his consistent appearance across multiple corporate filings suggests he served as infrastructure rather than figurehead.

Gilmore's titles varied across different documents. He appeared as "co-owner" on some filings, "managing member" on others, "director" on yet another, and "president" on a Wyoming-based entity. This variety of titles across different documents suggests either informal organization, intentional title rotation, or confusion about actual roles and responsibilities.

More significantly, Gilmore's name appeared consistently across filings even as Lo Jacono's presence shifted and changed. In the Executive Branch Limited Liability Company filing, Gilmore is the "organizer." In the Wyoming entity, he's the "president." In the later DC security company filing, he's the "beneficial owner." This consistency across multiple structures suggests Gilmore served as the primary business infrastructure connecting different entities and ownership configurations.

The relationship between Gilmore and Lo Jacono remains unclear from the available documentation. Do they have a partnership arrangement? Does Gilmore represent someone else's interests while Lo Jacono handles security operations? The corporate filings don't clarify these relationships, and no public statements have explained how their roles coordinated.

Estimated ownership distribution suggests Sean LoJacono holds a significant minority stake, aligning with typical beneficial ownership structures. Estimated data.

The Request for Comment: What Wasn't Said

When journalists investigating the Executive Branch's ownership structure reached out for statements, the responses—or lack thereof—proved revealing. The club itself did not respond to requests for comment. Donald Trump Jr. did not respond. Sean Lo Jacono did not respond. Glenn Gilmore did not respond. Neither did Zach and Alex Witkoff.

David Sacks, the venture capitalist and Trump administration AI czar, broke this silence but provided minimal clarification. His response, while not refusing to comment entirely, did not address Lo Jacono's involvement or explain the ownership structure that the corporate filings revealed.

This pattern of non-responses from key stakeholders left substantial gaps in understanding the club's actual governance. When asked directly about a beneficial ownership stake, it's notable that Lo Jacono offered no explanation. When asked about the relationship between the publicized founders and the documented beneficial owners, the organization stayed silent.

The contrast between the carefully curated launch narrative—featuring recognizable names like Trump Jr., David Sacks, and the Winklevoss twins—and the corporate realities revealed in government filings suggests two parallel stories. One is designed for public consumption. The other is documented in legal filings that few outside the business and investigative journalism communities would discover.

Beneficial Ownership in Corporate Law: What It Actually Means

To understand why Lo Jacono's presence in these documents matters, it's important to grasp what beneficial ownership actually signifies in corporate law and why governments now mandate disclosure of this information.

Traditionally, companies could obscure their actual owners by using nominee directors, shell companies, and complex ownership chains. A wealthy individual could own a company through a trust, which was owned by a Delaware corporation, which was owned by a Cayman Islands entity, which was owned by yet another entity in a jurisdiction with strict privacy laws. By the time investigators traced the chain backward, the original owner had disappeared into a labyrinth of corporate structures.

This opacity enabled money laundering, sanctions evasion, corruption, and tax avoidance. A corrupt government official could launder bribes by creating shell companies and eventually funneling the money into legitimate-looking real estate or business investments. A terrorist organization could finance operations through companies that appeared to have legitimate, innocent-sounding ownership. Rich individuals could structure their assets to avoid taxation or hide wealth in divorce or creditor proceedings.

In response, governments and financial institutions began implementing beneficial ownership registries. The United States, through the Fin CEN (Financial Crimes Enforcement Network), eventually implemented requirements for beneficial ownership disclosure. These requirements mandate that businesses report not just the nominal owner—the person whose name appears on the paperwork—but the "beneficial owner," the person who actually controls or benefits from the company.

The beneficial owner standard is particularly important because it catches scenarios where someone is nominally in charge but actually serves as a placeholder for someone else. A company might be registered in the name of a professional nominee director who is paid to be the official owner, while the real decision-maker operates behind the scenes.

Applying this standard to the Executive Branch's filings, Lo Jacono's designation as a beneficial owner means the company declared that he either owns at least 10 percent of the business or plays a managerial role in its day-to-day operations. If his role were purely security—hired hands protecting the facility—he likely wouldn't be designated as a beneficial owner. The designation suggests something beyond employee status.

The timeline shows the establishment and changes in ownership and structure of multiple LLCs related to the Executive Branch. Estimated data.

The Trump Jr. Connection: Why This Matters Politically

The significance of Lo Jacono's undisclosed ownership stake becomes clearer when examined through the lens of Trump Jr.'s political positioning and the administration's stated values around law enforcement. Trump Jr. has positioned himself as a staunch supporter of police and law enforcement officers, particularly since the 2020 protests against police brutality. He has, at various times, defended police conduct even when controversial.

Yet his business partnership—through co-ownership of a private club—now includes a former officer whose policing practices sparked ACLU litigation, generated viral videos, and ultimately resulted in a contested dismissal. The arbitrator's 2023 ruling reinstated Lo Jacono, but it was the kind of dispute that typically generates controversy and questions about policing standards.

This creates a contradiction or at minimum raises questions. Is Trump Jr. unaware of Lo Jacono's background? Did he know and see no problem with his involvement? Did Lo Jacono's stake come without Trump Jr.'s explicit knowledge or approval? The refusal to comment prevents any of these questions from being answered directly.

Beyond Trump Jr., the club itself positions itself as aligned with Trump administration values and goals. The public messaging emphasizes its Trump-aligned positioning. Yet its actual ownership structure includes a figure whose most famous act was a controversial body search that generated national media attention, ACLU litigation, and a settlement.

This discrepancy between public positioning and actual ownership raises questions about corporate transparency, political alignment, and whether individuals associated with the Trump administration are fully disclosing their business relationships and partnerships.

Patterns in Private Club Ownership and Secrecy

The Executive Branch is not unique in maintaining opaque ownership structures, but it is notable given the public figures involved and the political positioning. Washington, DC has a long history of private clubs where power brokers conduct business away from public view. But those established clubs generally maintain a clear, stable ownership structure that's well documented and widely known.

The Executive Branch's approach of creating multiple LLCs, shifting ownership designations across filings, and declining to comment on the actual beneficial owners represents a more aggressive form of opacity. This pattern is common in international business structures designed to obscure ownership, but less common in American private clubs that position themselves as legitimate gathering places for established elites.

The use of multiple entities serves structural purposes—liability separation, tax optimization, and operational organization. But the specific configuration here, combined with the significant presence of an individual in corporate filings while being completely absent from public positioning, suggests intentional obscuring of the ownership structure.

Estimated data suggests that while 50% of private clubs have transparent ownership, 30% maintain opaque structures, and 20% use complex configurations to obscure ownership.

The Broader Context: Private Clubs and Political Power in DC

Washington's traditional private clubs served as locations where members could discuss sensitive matters away from media attention and public scrutiny. The Metropolitan Club, the Cosmos Club, the Chevy Chase Club, and the Burning Tree Club have long served as unofficial venues for political power brokers to network and conduct business.

The Executive Branch's positioning suggests it's attempting to update this model for a new era. Rather than emphasizing tradition and historical prestige, it promises to be "hipper" and explicitly Trump-aligned. It draws members from both politics and technology entrepreneurship, bridging sectors that don't traditionally overlap.

But the club's actual ownership structure suggests it's following the same playbook of opacity that traditional power centers have long employed. Rather than making ownership transparent and publicly known, it obscures actual beneficial owners while promoting famous public figures as founders and members.

This pattern—public glamour and accessible names combined with hidden actual ownership—represents a particular model of American power. It allows individuals to benefit from association with famous names while keeping their own involvement subtle and discoverable only through detailed examination of corporate filings.

Implications for Government Transparency and Oversight

The Executive Branch situation highlights ongoing tension between corporate privacy and government transparency in the United States. Unlike some other democracies that maintain public beneficial ownership registries, the U. S. has historically allowed significant corporate opacity. Beneficial ownership information exists but is typically only accessible through investigative journalism, Freedom of Information Act requests, or specific legal proceedings.

This means that individuals with significant business interests can remain completely hidden from public knowledge unless journalists or investigators specifically research corporate filings. A person could own substantial stakes in multiple businesses, exercise significant control over economic and social institutions, and never appear in any public announcement or media coverage.

For a club designed to be a gathering place for government officials and policy influencers, this opacity raises questions about accountability and transparency. Should individuals involved in influencing government policy be required to publicly disclose their ownership stakes in private institutions? Or does business privacy outweigh the public interest in knowing who controls facilities where government officials conduct private meetings?

These are not questions with easy answers. Business owners have legitimate interests in privacy. Corporate structures serve important functions in liability separation and operational efficiency. Yet when those structures are used to obscure actual ownership, particularly in contexts involving political influence, the case for transparency becomes stronger.

What Happens Next: Unanswered Questions and Future Implications

Several critical questions remain unanswered, and the refusal to comment from key stakeholders ensures they'll likely remain so. How deep does Lo Jacono's involvement actually go? Is he a minority owner in a silent partnership role? Does he exercise day-to-day management authority over the facility? What is his compensation arrangement?

Second, what is the relationship between Lo Jacono and the other beneficial owners or managers identified in the various filings? Does Glenn Gilmore know him? Did Gilmore structure Lo Jacono's involvement? Do Trump Jr. and the other publicly identified owners even know who Lo Jacono is?

Third, will the Executive Branch's continued growth and influence in DC political circles change this situation? As the club likely expands and becomes more prominent, will pressure mount for transparent ownership disclosure? Or will the existing corporate structure simply persist, with power exercised through complex arrangements that few outside the organization fully understand?

Fourth, what does Lo Jacono's transition from law enforcement to private club security management suggest about career trajectories for police officers caught in controversial situations? Did the arbitration decision that went in his favor position him for lucrative private sector work? And if so, does that create incentives for other officers to pursue aggressive tactics, knowing that if they're disciplined or terminated, private security work might offer a financially superior alternative?

The Broader Pattern: Hidden Ownership in Trump-Aligned Ventures

The Executive Branch's ownership opacity fits a broader pattern observable across multiple Trump-aligned ventures and organizations. From media properties to real estate developments to venture investments, Trump-adjacent businesses often feature complex ownership structures that obscure actual beneficial owners while highlighting celebrity figureheads.

This pattern isn't unique to Trump ventures—it's common across wealthy and connected circles. But it is worth noting because it complicates the narrative around transparency and accountability. When organizations position themselves as aligned with government officials, but maintain hidden ownership structures, it creates potential conflicts of interest and raises questions about actual decision-making authority and influence.

In Lo Jacono's case specifically, the hidden involvement of a former police officer with a controversial disciplinary history in an organization closely aligned with government adds particular concern. It suggests that individuals who might face significant public scrutiny or reputational concerns can find their way into influential positions through corporate structures that few outside the organization will ever discover.

Understanding the Legal Framework: Why These Filings Matter

The corporate filings for the Executive Branch entities are, in many ways, the most transparent documentation available about the organization's actual structure. Yet interpreting them requires understanding corporate law, beneficial ownership standards, and the differences between various entity types.

Limited Liability Companies, or LLCs, have become the dominant business structure for private ventures in the United States. They combine elements of corporate structure (limited liability for members) with partnership flexibility (pass-through taxation, less formal governance requirements).

When an LLC is formed, the filing documents must list key information including members, managers, and other organizational details. Beneficial ownership disclosures go further, requiring identification of individuals who own or control the company, regardless of their title or formal position.

The variation in how Lo Jacono's name appeared across different filings—as beneficial owner on some, absent from others—suggests either intentional management of his visibility or operational confusion about how different entities related to each other. If the structure were intentionally managed, then Lo Jacono's presence on some documents and absence from others might reflect different roles in different entities.

But the most striking aspect remains the complete absence of Lo Jacono from any public disclosure or announcement about the club. His appearance only in technical corporate filings, combined with the refusal to comment when questioned, suggests his involvement was not meant for public knowledge.

FAQ

What is the Executive Branch club?

The Executive Branch is a private members-only club located in a basement space in Washington, DC that launched in 2025. Co-owned by Donald Trump Jr. and other high-profile figures, it reportedly charges membership fees as high as $500,000. The club positions itself as a Trump-aligned gathering place for business executives, politicians, and venture capitalists.

Who are the public owners and members of the Executive Branch?

Publicly identified co-owners include Donald Trump Jr., venture capitalist David Sacks (Trump's AI czar), all-in podcast cohosts Chamath Palihapitiya, crypto billionaires Tyler and Cameron Winklevoss, and several others including Omeed Malik, Chris Buskirk, Zach Witkoff, and Alex Witkoff. Glenn Gilmore, a Bay Area real estate developer, is also listed on various corporate documents as an organizer or beneficial owner.

Who is Sean Lo Jacono and why does he matter?

Sean Lo Jacono is a former Metropolitan Police Department officer in Washington, DC who is identified as a beneficial owner in corporate filings for the Executive Branch, despite not being mentioned in any public announcements about the club. His involvement is significant because corporate filings indicate he owns or controls at least 10 percent of the business or holds a managerial role, yet this stake was not disclosed publicly when the club launched.

What is Lo Jacono's controversial police record?

In 2017, while working as a DC police officer, Lo Jacono conducted a body search on a man named M. B. Cottingham during a suspected open container law violation stop. The incident was recorded and shared online, sparking debate over aggressive policing tactics. The American Civil Liberties Union sued on Cottingham's behalf, alleging inappropriate physical conduct. The District of Columbia settled the lawsuit with an undisclosed amount in 2018 while admitting no wrongdoing.

What happened to Lo Jacono after the incident?

The Metropolitan Police Department initiated dismissal proceedings, though their internal affairs investigation concluded that the specific Cottingham search might not be a fireable offense. However, another search conducted the same day was deemed grounds for termination. Lo Jacono appealed the dismissal, arguing he conducted searches according to field training. An arbitrator ruled in his favor in November 2023, effectively vindicating him under the collective bargaining agreement. He subsequently moved into private security management at the Executive Branch club.

Why is the club's corporate structure complicated?

Multiple separate Limited Liability Companies were filed with different names and ownership structures: Executive Branch Limited Liability Company (listing Lo Jacono as beneficial owner), Executive Branch Security Company (also listing Lo Jacono, later cancelled), Executive Branch LLC in Wyoming (listing Glenn Gilmore as president), and Executive Branch Security Company LLC (listing Gilmore as beneficial owner, without Lo Jacono). This structure creates complexity and raises questions about the relationships between entities and actual decision-making authority.

What does "beneficial owner" mean in corporate law?

A beneficial owner is an individual who directly or indirectly owns or controls a company, regardless of whose name appears as the nominal owner. In the District of Columbia, a beneficial owner is defined as someone owning or controlling at least 10 percent of a company or holding a managerial role in day-to-day operations. Beneficial ownership disclosures exist to prevent individuals from hiding their stakes in businesses through complex corporate structures.

Why didn't the club disclose Lo Jacono's involvement publicly?

The club, Trump Jr., Lo Jacono, Glenn Gilmore, and most other key figures declined to comment when questioned about his involvement or beneficial ownership stake. David Sacks provided limited response but did not address Lo Jacono's role. No explanation has been publicly provided for why a beneficial owner was omitted from all public announcements and media coverage about the club's founding.

What are the implications of this situation?

The discrepancy between public claims about ownership (featuring famous names like Trump Jr. and David Sacks) and actual beneficial ownership (including an undisclosed former police officer) raises questions about corporate transparency, accountability in politically connected businesses, and whether beneficial ownership should be disclosed publicly rather than remaining discoverable only through investigative examination of state corporate filings.

How can I find beneficial ownership information for other businesses?

Search your state's Secretary of State office website or local government's corporations division for LLC filings, C-Corporation documents, and other entity registrations. These filings typically include beneficial ownership information and can reveal actual ownership structures that differ significantly from public representations. You can also use FOIA requests for additional documentation and pursue investigative journalism techniques to connect corporate documents to specific individuals and their interests.

The Accountability Question: What Transparency Should Look Like

Ultimately, the Executive Branch situation raises fundamental questions about how American society balances business privacy with government transparency and public accountability. The corporate filings provide clear evidence that the publicly announced ownership structure differs from the legally documented actual structure. Yet absent regulatory requirements for public beneficial ownership disclosure, few people would ever discover this discrepancy.

In many European democracies, beneficial ownership registries are public, and any citizen can search them online. The European Union's anti-money laundering directives explicitly require that beneficial ownership information be available to "the public" upon request. This creates transparency without requiring organizations to voluntarily disclose everything—the information is available if someone looks for it, but not splashed across press releases and announcements.

The U. S. approach has traditionally been more private, allowing corporate structures to remain opaque unless journalists or investigators specifically dig into filings. This system works for ordinary businesses but becomes problematic when organizations are closely aligned with government officials, influence government policy, or serve as gathering places for public officials to conduct meetings and network.

The Executive Branch may well be a legitimate business operating entirely legally and ethically. The corporate structure, while complex, may serve legitimate purposes of liability separation and operational organization. Lo Jacono's involvement may be entirely above board and appropriate. But none of this can be evaluated when key stakeholders refuse to comment and the ownership structure is discoverable only through detailed investigation of government filings.

Real transparency would mean straightforward answers to straightforward questions. Who owns the Executive Branch? What is Lo Jacono's role and compensation? How did his involvement come about? Why wasn't it disclosed publicly? Until these questions are answered, the club's actual structure remains mysterious, and the public narrative remains incomplete.

Conclusion: Power, Secrecy, and American Institutions

The story of the Executive Branch and Sean Lo Jacono's involvement in it is, at its core, a story about how power operates in American institutions. It's about the ways that wealthy and connected individuals can structure their interests to benefit from proximity to government without submitting to full transparency about their business arrangements.

The club itself—positioned as a cutting-edge gathering place for Trump-aligned political and business figures—may serve legitimate purposes. It may provide valuable networking opportunities and facilitate conversations that benefit its members. There's nothing inherently problematic about private clubs or private meetings among adults.

But when an organization explicitly positions itself as Trump-aligned, includes government officials among its members, and operates with hidden beneficial ownership structures that diverge significantly from public representation, it raises legitimate questions about accountability and transparency. These questions become even more pressing when those hidden ownership stakes include individuals with controversial backgrounds that made national headlines.

The refusal of Trump Jr., Lo Jacono, Gilmore, and the club itself to provide any explanation or clarification ensures that these questions will linger. In the absence of direct answers, the corporate filings become the most transparent documentation available—and what they reveal is a structure far more complex than the public announcements suggested.

This pattern of hidden ownership in politically connected ventures deserves continued scrutiny. Not because there's necessarily anything illegal or unethical happening, but because transparency serves the broader health of democratic institutions. When power operates in shadows, when beneficial owners remain hidden, when public figures refuse to explain their business arrangements, democracy itself becomes harder to practice effectively.

The solution isn't to eliminate private clubs or private business arrangements. It's to demand transparency about beneficial ownership, particularly in organizations closely aligned with government officials or serving as informal governance spaces. Until beneficial ownership registries become public in the United States, stories like the Executive Branch will continue to emerge, revealing hidden layers of American power structures only through investigative journalism rather than institutional transparency.

What remains clear is that the true ownership and governance structure of the Executive Branch is substantially more complex and opaque than its public-facing narrative suggests. And that discrepancy, in itself, tells an important story about how power and secrecy intersect in contemporary American institutions.

Key Takeaways

• The Executive Branch charges up to $500,000 membership fees but hides actual beneficial ownership through complex LLC structures
• Sean LoJacono, listed as beneficial owner in corporate filings, was a former DC cop involved in a controversial 2017 body search that sparked ACLU litigation
• Public founding narrative featuring Trump Jr., David Sacks, and Winklevoss twins omits key beneficial owners revealed only in state corporate documents
• Multiple corporate entities with varying ownership declarations create opacity around actual decision-making authority and financial interests
• The refusal to comment from Trump Jr., LoJacono, and club leadership prevents public understanding of how undisclosed ownership stakes integrate into the club's governance

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