Steve Wynn spent half a century building modern Las Vegas, transforming a desert city into a global entertainment destination with his name on towers across two continents. In 2017, at 75 years old, he sat at the peak of his empire—worth $3. 1 billion, with Wynn Resorts generating over $4 billion in annual revenue and expansion plans in Massachusetts and Japan. Twenty-one days later, his career was over.
Born Steven Allan Weinberg in New Haven, Connecticut in 1942, Wynn grew up in Utica, New York, where his father ran a chain of Eastern Seaboard bingo halls. The family changed its name to Wynn during his teenage years, and after his father died in 1963, the 21-year-old took over the family business. In 1967, he sold everything and moved west to Las Vegas with $75,000. Las Vegas in 1967 was mob-controlled and fading.
Wynn saw something others missed: the federal government was tightening its grip on organized crime, and corporations were beginning to eye casino gambling as a legitimate industry. He bought into the Frontier Hotel, then gained control of the Golden Nugget in 1971, renovating the struggling downtown property into one of the city’s top performers. He expanded to Atlantic City in 1978 and became one of the most profitable casino operators in the country. But Wynn was aiming higher.
On November 22, 1989, the Mirage opened at a cost of $630 million. Before the Mirage, casinos were designed to trap gamblers in windowless, clockless boxes. Wynn flipped the equation entirely: the spectacle became the destination, and gambling became what you did while you were there. The volcano out front, the tropical atrium, the white tiger habitat, and the Cirque du Soleil show made the Mirage the most profitable property in Las Vegas before critics finished arguing about whether it would survive.
Every other operator on the Strip panicked and launched a building boom to chase what Wynn had started. Treasure Island followed in 1993, but the true artistic statement came in 1998. Bellagio cost $1. 6 billion and featured millions of dollars in fine art by Renoir, Monet, Van Gogh, and Matisse, displayed inside a casino.
The famous dancing fountains out front—1,200 water jets choreographed to music—cost $40 million and generated nothing but wonder and word of mouth. Bellagio repositioned Las Vegas as a cultured destination rather than a refuge for desperate gamblers. Wynn sold his portfolio to MGM in the early 2000s for $6. 6 billion, then immediately started over.
Wynn Las Vegas opened in 2005 with a golf course, a Ferrari dealership, and $2. 7 billion in construction costs. It outperformed projections in its first year. Encore followed in 2008, opening at the peak of the financial crisis and somehow succeeding.
Then came Macau: Wynn Macau opened in 2006, and within two years it was generating more revenue than any of his Las Vegas properties. Wynn Palace opened in 2016, excessive even by his own standards, and enormously profitable. By early 2018, Wynn Resorts operated five properties across two countries, employed 25,000 people, and had risen nearly 900 percent in stock value since going public in 2002. Wynn was planning the $2.
6 billion Wynn Boston Harbor and watching Japan move toward legalizing casinos. Behind the curated public image, a different pattern existed. In 1998, Wynn Resorts paid $500,000 to settle a sexual harassment lawsuit filed by a manicurist. In 2005, a seven-figure settlement went to an unnamed employee following separate sexual misconduct allegations.
In 2014, another employee received $250,000 under similar circumstances. Each settlement came with a non-disclosure agreement, and the stories disappeared. Estimates later put total settlements paid to women who brought allegations against Wynn at more than $7 million, spanning from the 1970s to 2015. On January 27, 2018, The Wall Street Journal published an investigation built on interviews with more than 150 people and reviews of legal documents and settlement records.
The article described a consistent pattern of female employees in spas and personal service roles who said they were pressured into sexual acts, with compliance meaning advancement and refusal meaning the end of their jobs. One former manicurist said she was paid $750 after a session at his office. Another employee described being summoned to his private villa; her complaint was investigated internally, resulted in her transfer, and eventually produced a seven-figure settlement. The Journal reported that executives and lawyers had known about the pattern for years and managed it through settlements rather than stopping it.
Wynn called the allegations “preposterous” and said they were part of a deliberate campaign by his ex-wife, Elaine, connected to their divorce battle. The board announced an investigation. Within two days, the stock dropped 10 percent, erasing $2. 2 billion in market value, and Wynn’s personal fortune fell roughly $400 million.
Gaming regulators in Nevada and Massachusetts both launched reviews. Calls for his resignation came from investors, politicians, and advocacy groups within a week. Wynn refused, repeating his denials. He lasted 10 more days.
On February 6, 2018, Steve Wynn resigned as chief executive officer and chairman of Wynn Resorts. The board had concluded that his presence had shifted from the company’s greatest asset to its most significant liability. His resignation statement said his presence had become a distraction. Over the following months, he sold his entire stake—roughly 12 percent of the company, worth approximately $2 billion—and severed every formal connection to the business.
The fall ran 21 days from publication to resignation. Fifty years of building gone in three weeks. The legal consequences continued after his departure. Massachusetts gaming regulators concluded in April 2019 that Wynn Resorts executives had withheld information about the allegations during the licensing process, imposing a $35 million fine, the largest in state gaming history.
The license survived because officials concluded punishing employees for decisions made by a man no longer there would be unjust. Nevada’s review found Wynn’s conduct had fallen short of licensing expectations, but no sanctions were imposed since he had already left. The SEC concluded its investigation in 2020, with Wynn Resorts paying $20 million to settle charges that it failed to properly investigate and disclose the allegations against its founder. The company proved it did not need its founder.
New management restructured, compliance procedures were implemented, and revenue kept climbing. The stock recovered within two years and reached new highs. By 2023, Wynn Resorts was generating over $6 billion in annual revenue, and Encore Boston Harbor opened in 2019 as one of the highest-performing casinos in the northeastern United States. Wynn, now 83, has never admitted wrongdoing.
He settled his divorce in 2018, substantially sold off his art collection once valued at over $700 million, and retreated to a $60 million house on the water in Palm Beach. He is still worth roughly $3 billion. He has made no new ventures, no announced plans, and no attempt to rebuild any public role in the industry he spent five decades shaping. The Mirage did change everything.
Bellagio did reposition an entire city’s identity. The model Wynn pioneered—entertainment first, luxury always, spectacle as the primary reason to come—is now the standard for major resorts around the world. The transformation is real and documented. The allegations are real and documented.
The same man did both. The name is still on the buildings. The fountains still run every night. The towers in Macau still rise above the Pearl River Delta.
The empire survived. The man did not.