Theo Galavan was a highly credentialed man of charisma, Philanthropist, etc, etc: though he was a man with a dark purpose, and Danica could tell that about them, but she didn't know what he wanted with a band of lunatics from Arkham Asylum.
According to Aaron, who could describe things in his way as a five-year-old could, Sionis didn't want what Galavan had to offer—so a "pretty black lady" ripped him apart in front of everyone. Then Galavan had released them all to enjoy food, drink, and new clothing—a fresh, clean slate.
Barbara and 'pretty black lady' Tabitha Galavan took to each other very well, binding a sexual relationship as well as a friendly one. Greenwood, Dobkins, and Aaron found the place to be incredibly likeable, better than Arkham.

Jerome had the same idea: better than Arkham. He had dressed in a white T-shirt with a velvet, maroon robe draped over his shoulders. Comfortable and excited about what the future could bring.

Galavan guided Danica down the hall and into the dining room, allowing her to take in the new environment. Her playmates glanced at her; most of them made a small sigh of relief—the only one who showed little worry had been Jerome, though he had already known that she was safe.

"Like I told them," Galavan said, taking Danica by her shoulders to meet her in the eye, "all of you have specific talents; working together, you could be a real force to reckoned with. With their abilities and yours—"

Danica laughed in his face. Galavan looked at her, as if trying to figure out what he had said had been so hilarious.

"My talents?" Danica chuckled. "Honey, my talents are druggie-related. Petty theft," she added, glancing at Jerome who had told her the same thing.

"You're not just an addict," Galavan reasoned. "You're resourceful, a survivor—a person who—"

Danica cut him off,
"I merely did as I was told when I was in Daddy's care, to stop him from hurting me any further. I was a mule for Falcone. That's about all I can do."

"You're modest. It's a fine trait."
"I'm honest."
"Another fine trait," he added.

Danica looked at him, amused.
"How much do you know about me?"

Galavan grinned at her. "I know enough. I do my homework, Danica. Your father may have been a drunk, but he taught you how to survive, endure pain, lots of it—You don't give yourself enough credit. I can give you that: credit."

Danica patted his cheek, "Aren't you sweet? Well, the best I can give you is a thank you for setting me free, right?"

"Right," Galavan said.

Danica leaned forward and kissed him swiftly on the lips. When she withdrew from him, he glanced at Jerome over his shoulder—not out of fear but more out of curiosity—but Jerome showed no sign of indignation or jealousy. Danica smirked as Galavan turned back to her.

"You've got nothing to worry about," Danica said casually. "He and I have an understanding about the boundaries of our relationship."

Galavan nodded.
"Right," he said. "Please, feel welcome in our home. Tabitha is about to arrange entertainment, so feel free to get a change of clothes—there's food, drink. Relax."
He turned to walk away.

"And what of your business?" Danica called after him.

"Take your boyfriend's advice, Darling," Galavan answered. "Go with the flow. Don't think so much."

"I suppose you want me to blindly follow then?"

"You're part of our band of misfit toys." Galavan said cheerfully. "Go play."