Chapter 6 - A HOME WITHOUT A HOUSE STAFF
Paige and Roman rented before they bought.
Roman disliked renting.
Paige insisted.
“Why?”
“Because I want to know whether we can live together before your lawyers create seventeen trusts.”
He looked offended.
“Probably twelve.”
“Exactly.”
Good.
They rented a two-bedroom apartment in a secure building near the waterfront.
Both names on lease.
Roman could have paid all.
They split household expenses proportionally to income.
Not fifty-fifty theater.
Separate accounts.
One shared account for:
rent,
utilities,
groceries.
No family office control.
Good.
Then security.
Independent assessment said:
building concierge,
garage access,
discreet camera coverage,
one professional security contact for specific threats.
No live-in guards.
No tracking Paige.
Good.
Roman kept personal driver for public events sometimes.
Not household default.
Then staff.
None.
Roman was horrified.
“Who cleans?”
“We do.”
He stared.
Paige laughed.
They hired a cleaner twice a month after three weeks.
Written agency arrangement.
Normal.
Then laundry.
Roman ruined a sweater.
Paige said:
“Prison taught you nothing.”
“Prison laundry was industrial.”
“Your defense is worse.”
Good.
Then groceries.
Paige worked late.
Roman cooked badly.
They ordered too much takeout.
Normal.
Then cohabitation revealed Roman’s old habit:
questions that sounded like requests but were actually plans.
“We should have Luca’s team check your route tomorrow.”
Paige:
“Are you asking?”
Roman stopped.
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Okay.”
Good.
Then Paige’s old habit:
saying “fine” when not fine.
Roman planned a dinner with board members at apartment.
Paige said:
“Fine.”
Then became angry.
Roman noticed.
“You said fine.”
“I know.”
“Do you mean no?”
“Yes.”
There.
They canceled? Already invited maybe. Let's say before invitations.
Good.
Paige had to learn consent works only when she uses it.
No partner can read every swallowed preference.
Then therapy.
Paige began seeing a therapist, Dr. Simone Hale.
Not because relationship failing.
Because living with power reopened old service-worker reflexes:
anticipate,
please,
stay invisible.
Simone said:
“You trained yourself to notice everyone’s needs before your own.”
Paige nodded.
“Hospitality.”
“Also survival.”
Both.
Then:
“How do you know when service is chosen?”
Paige thought.
“When I can stop.”
There.
Useful.
Then Roman therapy continued.
Different therapist.
No couples therapy yet.
Good.
Then one shared conflict.
Roman wanted to buy the apartment.
Paige did not.
Why?
Building owned partly by Gallow-connected fund? Ah conflict. Let's make Roman discovered his holding company had a minority investment in building. He did not know due diversified fund.
Paige laughed.
“Of course.”
They did not buy.
Moved? Rental okay but conflict not harmful. Still she wanted neutral ownership.
They searched.
Found townhouse:
three bedrooms,
small yard,
not Gallow property,
not port-adjacent,
normal neighbors.
Independent purchase.
Roman paid seventy-five percent.
Paige twenty-five.
Title percentages documented.
Decision rights equal for shared home.
Then co-ownership agreement:
buyout process,
sale process,
no unilateral lock changes,
no security modifications without both unless immediate emergency,
no family-office lien or hidden encumbrance.
Good.
Then Paige asked:
“Is this excessive?”
Her lawyer said:
“You are marrying a man whose former business model involved leverage. Be specific.”
They were not engaged.
Still.
Good.
Then move.
No house staff.
Cleaner weekly now.
gardener seasonal.
Roman missed estate chef.
Learned two meals.
Paige appreciated one.
Then Gallow estate.
What happened?
Roman kept but reduced use.
Board meetings moved corporate.
Household staff downsized through:
voluntary transfers,
severance,
retirement.
No abrupt firing because he moved.
Luca’s security office relocated.
Estate later became? Maybe sold years later. Not yet.
Then Roman’s board role.
He made a mistake.
A vendor executive insulted Paige at an industry event after recognizing her as “the waitress.”
Roman did nothing publicly.
Good.
Later, however, he told a Gallow executive:
“We should stop using that vendor.”
Bad.
Executive asked:
“Business reason?”
Roman stopped.
There.
He had almost converted personal anger into commercial consequence.
He withdrew instruction.
Then disclosed to compliance.
No vendor action occurred.
Good.
Paige learned because Roman told her.
She was furious.
Then:
“You almost did exactly what got you convicted.”
“Yes.”
“Because someone insulted me.”
“Yes.”
“Do not make me expensive to dislike.”
There.
Powerful line.
Roman nodded.
Then board ethics committee reviewed self-report.
Formal reprimand.
conflict coaching.
documented.
No punishment fantasy.
Good.
Paige said:
“I’m glad they reprimanded you.”
Roman looked offended.
“Cruel.”
Necessary.
Then her own workplace issue.
At conference center, a client sexually harassed a server.
Paige wanted to ban client immediately.
Company process required investigation.
She hated delay.
Witnesses confirmed repeated comments and touching.
Client banned.
contract terminated.
Good.
Process still worked.
Then another complaint later against a guest was unsubstantiated.
Paige had to accept.
Evidence matters even when instinct is strong.
Then promotion.
Regional operations director offer.
Would require travel.
more money.
less floor time.
Paige wanted.
Roman asked:
“Do you want advice?”
“No.”
He smiled.
“Okay.”
She took role.
Then security concerns:
more travel.
Independent plan:
hotel safety basics,
company travel policy,
no Gallow detail unless specific threat.
Good.
Roman did not object.
Mostly.
Then one night Paige came home after midnight.
Roman was awake.
“You did not text.”
Paige stopped.
“I did not promise to.”
He looked frustrated.
Then:
“I was worried.”
“I know.”
“Can we agree on a late-night check-in?”
Paige considered.
Not control automatically.
Mutual courtesy.
“Yes. If later than midnight and plans change.”
Good.
Then she added:
“Both of us.”
“Both.”
Fair.
Then Roman missed one.
Paige was worried.
He apologized.
Rules not gendered.
Then marriage question.
Roman asked at breakfast.
“Do you want to get married?”
Paige almost choked.
“Is this proposal?”
“No.”
Good.
Then:
“Do you?”
She thought.
“Yes.”
Surprised herself.
Then:
“Now?”
“No.”
Roman smiled.
“Useful.”
Then:
“What needs to happen first?”
Paige said:
“Prenup.”
He laughed.
“Romantic.”
“Extremely.”
Then:
“Separate counsel.”
“Yes.”
“Security rules in writing.”
“Yes.”
“No business authority by marriage.”
“Yes.”
“No children as dynasty project.”
Roman went still.
“Children?”
Paige had not decided.
“Maybe none.”
Roman considered.
Then:
“Okay.”
Not easy maybe.
Allowed.
Then she said:
“And the suit.”
“What about it?”
“You never get to joke that I still owe you.”
Roman’s face changed.
“I would not.”
“Good.”
Then Paige smiled.
“Ask me after the prenup.”
Roman groaned.
“Cruel.”
Exactly.
The cohabitation agreement also covered something Paige’s lawyer insisted on:
access to documents.
No partner could hold the only copy of:
lease,
insurance,
mortgage,
tax returns,
security contracts,
or household employment agreements.
Both received independent access.
Roman found that excessive.
Then remembered the estate, where one chief of staff used to know where everything was.
“Fine.”
Good.
Then Paige added:
no personal identification stored in family office.
Passport stayed with Paige.
license stayed with Paige.
medical records stayed with Paige.
Roman’s stayed with him.
Shared emergency copies existed only where both agreed.
Specific.
Then their new townhouse needed repairs.
A contractor recognized Roman and quoted a suspiciously low price.
Paige asked for two other bids.
Roman sighed.
“You think he is afraid to charge me?”
“Maybe.”
They compared.
He was twenty percent lower.
Why?
He wanted future Gallow work.
There.
Not charity.
Business motive.
Paige said:
“Standard rate or no contract.”
The contractor revised.
Good.
Influence can distort even when nobody threatens.
Then one neighbor complained about security vehicles idling.
Paige agreed.
Roman’s security firm changed pickup procedures.
No:
do you know who I am?
Good.
Then one night a real threat arrived.
A man under federal supervision sent a specific message naming their street and Roman’s old case.
Police and independent security assessed credible enough for temporary measures.
Paige agreed to:
two weeks overnight exterior coverage,
route changes for Roman,
building coordination.
Not permanent.
After arrest on an unrelated violation and reassessment, coverage reduced.
Roman wanted another month.
Paige said no.
Security adviser recommended one additional week.
They chose one.
Good.
Safety did not require pretending danger was imaginary.
It required a review date.
The townhouse purchase also required deciding what “shared” meant in practice.
Roman paid more.
Paige’s lawyer warned:
do not confuse equal decision rights with equal cash contributions.
They documented both.
If sold:
proceeds followed equity percentages after agreed expenses.
If one wanted to buy out the other:
independent appraisal,
defined timeline,
no family-office valuation.
If separation happened:
neither could force the other out overnight absent a safety order.
Boring.
Excellent.
An exit that existed on paper made staying feel more voluntary.
The townhouse also exposed how easily “shared” could become “Roman’s” in other people’s minds.
A repair invoice arrived addressed only to Mr. Gallow.
Paige sent it back.
The contractor apologized.
Next invoice listed both owners.
Simple.
Then a neighbor invited “Roman and guest” to a block meeting.
Paige corrected the email.
Not because of pride.
Because language creates defaults.
The next invitation read:
Roman Gallow and Paige Monroe.
Good.
Nobody needed a fight.
Just accuracy repeated until the house sounded like both of them lived there.
The corrected invoice became routine after that.
Electrician.
plumber.
insurance broker.
Both names.
No one needed to announce equality every month.
The paperwork simply stopped assuming one owner mattered more.
May you like
Paige liked systems best when they became too ordinary to notice.
Still true.
